
eh™ c.Tang 
Book ,Gii £ fa 



THE 



CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN; 



OB, 



M. LOUISE GREENE, 



A STUDENT OF FIYE YEARS 



AT KENT'S HILL, ME. 



BY 



JOKAS GEEENE, 



BOSTON. 

1868. 



& 



64313 



It being the object of Ux writer to circulate this pamphlet as extensively as pos- 
sible, he offers it at a very low price, and has made arrangements for the sale and 
delivery of the same at the following places, viz. : 



S. H. COLESWORTHY, 

Bookseller, Stationer, and Dealer in Paper-Hangings, Engravings, Picture 

Frames, and Fancy Articles, 

v2 Exchange St., Portland, Maine. 



T. M. VARNEY, 

Bookseller and Stationer, and Dealer in Paper- Hangings and Fancy Goods, 
No. 6 Lisbon St., Lewiston, Maine. 

Orders can be directed to either of the above houses. Price 50 cents per copy. 
A fair discount will be made to those who buy to sell again. 

For further information, please inquire at the above houses, or of Jonas Greene, 
Peru, Maine. 



PREFACE 



With an aching heart, pierced by the keenest arrows of affliction — with fondly 
cherished hopes blighted — with feelings of sensibility stung to the very quick by 
the wrongs and injustice which I feel have been done to a near and dear one, as also 
to myself and my family, I come before you, kind readers, to tell the sad story of my 
bereavement and my afflictions. I cannot promise you a literary work. If I can 
present my story of sorrow, my ideas, and views in language that you can compre- 
hend, you will please overlook my awkward style, and want of literature ; and you 
will " pardon something " to the feelings of a bereaved parent. If I shall appear too 
zealous in the performance of what I feel to be a duty, I will say to you in the lan- 
guage of Job, — " Hear now my reasoning, and hearken to the pleadings of my lips. 
Suffer me that I may speak; and after that I have spoken, mock on." 

The reading portion of the community, generally, in Maine, and thousands out of 
this State, have heard of the sad tragedy which transpired at Auburn, near Lewis- 
ton, not long since : how M. Louise Greene, a student at the Female College at 
Kent's Hill, Me., left that institution in a wretched state of mind, on the 23d day 
of May, 1866, travelled to Lewiston, was seen weeping in Auburn, purchased 
poison, and mysteriously disappeared ; how her father, for many weary and anxious 
days and weeks, searched in and around Lewiston for his lost child ; how he em- 
ployed detectives, circulated handbills and photographs all over the State ; while 
the kind and sympathizing people of Lewiston, Auburn, Lisbon, and other places 
generously assisted him in many ways, and by hundreds, in searching the wood, the 
canals, and river to no purpose ; and how her bleached remains were accidentally 
discovered in a lonely spot in the forest, in Auburn, in October following. They 
have also seen, in some of the journals of the day, paragraphs, afloat in the country, 
containing the statement that she was detected in pilfering on Kent's Hill, and 
committed suicide. This is nearly all that the public generally know of the matter, 
except what busy tongues, and sometimes prejudiced, have breathed, often incor- 
rectly, into the public ear. Thus, thousands, who otherwise would never have 
heard her name, heard it, for the first time, coupled with infamy and disgrace. 



IV PREFACE. 

This M. Louise Greene was our daughter, our oldest child, — who for twenty-two 
years had been the recipient of a father's indulgent care, a mother's kindest affec- 
tions, — one whom we loved* and doted on, and for whose physical comfort and 
intellectual culture and improvement we had beep sparing of neither pains nor 
money. Her kind affections ever clung to us, as tne tendrils of the vine cling to 
the oak which protects it. While living, she looked to us for counsel and protection ; 
and though now dead and lost to us forever, as a father I will be faithful to her memory, 
and protect it, as far as in me lies, against false stigma and unjust reproach. I have 
carefully and candidly investigated this affair with the zeal and scrutiny of a deeply 
interested father, and have formed the opinion that my daughter was the victim of 
prejudice, improper treatment, erroneous or injudicious management, or culpable neglect. 
This is the settled conviction of my mind, whether real or imaginary, from which 
I cannot recede after months of reflection. To me it appears that some party or 
parties other than herself are culpable and responsible before God, if not before 
human laws, for this sad and afflicting occurrence. 

" To err is human." If I am in error, after giving the facts and circumstances on 
which I base my opinion, — if the public shall decide that I have no cause, — I stand 
corrected. In view of the condition of the case, and of the many rumors and state- 
ments that had been sent afloat, seemingly for effect, to exonerate the culpable and 
reflect on the character of my child, — after gathering up her bleached yet precious 
remains from the forest, where they had lain in silence for months, and given them 
a proper burial, — I felt that I still owed an important duty to her memory, which I 
could not go down to the grave and leave unperformed. This duty was to lay be- 
fore the public, in an intelligible form, a portion of the circumstances and facts 
which led me to form the opinion I have before expressed, that others may, in a 
measure, have the means of judging for themselves whether or not I have reasons 
for my conclusions, and whether or not my daughter was guilty of such enormous 
offences that her earthly hopes and future prospects should have been blighted and 
forever extinguished. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN 



The charges, or allegations, preferred against Louise, as far as I have 
been advised, were, in substance, these : that in her and her chum's room 
were found several articles of wearing apparel that were not her own, but 
belonged to others connected with the institution ; — that she took live dol- 
lars in money from the room of one of the students ; — that she had in her 
possession a skeleton key. 

I propose now to introduce to my readers some facts, circumstances, 
testimony, letters, and certificates, and leave them, after a careful and can- 
did perusal, to form their own opinions, and judge for themselves whether 
or not the following propositions are not amply sustained, namely : That 
the printed rules of the institution at Kent's Hill, " to have all- articles of 
clothing put in the wash plainly marked with the owner's name" was not 
enforced or adhered to, but that many articles sent to the wash by teachers, 
students, and even the help, were unmarked ; — that much of the clothing 
could be recognized only by the quality of the cloth, or the peculiar make, 
stitches, or hems ; — that articles not unfrequently got exchanged, and fre- 
quently lost, and that exchanges would naturally and innocently occur ; 
— that for students to take articles from the unmarked pile, not their own, 
when their own were missing, was not only practised, but allowed, if not 
advised, by those having charge of that department ; — that the articles 
found in L.'s and her mate's room, of which she had any knowledge, and 
which were not hers, were there by necessity, and not by theft, her own 
being gone ; — that Miss Case and others claimed and took from L.'s and 
her chum's room some unmarked articles, claiming them as their own, when 
the chances are equal that they were Louise's ; — that there is no proof that 
all the articles found in that room, and said to belong to others, were there 
by any act of L.'s, or that they were all there at the time she left, and that 
all those articles not her own, of which she had any knowledge, she took 
without any concealment, in lieu of her own, with no intention of keeping 

5 



6 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOKS. 

them ; — that, at the time of taking the five dollars, she was suffering under 
partial, if not serious mental aberration, and the act was to her a mystery, 
no less than to her fellow-students, who knew her character, and to her 
friends everywhere ; and that while she could not account for the act, she 
did not equivocate nor deny it, but confessed and restored without hesita- 
tion, when no evidence or proof was attempted to be brought against her ; 
— that up to this occurrence, from her childhood, she had sustained, both 
at home and abroad, an irreproachable character ; — that she was a pro- 
fessor of Christianity, and lived a virtuous life ; — that in searching and 
examining to fix the guilt of theft upon her, but little leniency or feeling 
of mercy was manifested towards her ; — that attempts were made, while 
in her " distracted state of mind," to fix upon her the theft of other things 
which had been missed, and to impress upon her already bewildered mind 
the " enormity of the crime" of which they accused her ; — that she was 
accused, tried, condemned, and virtually expelled from the school, — as she 
understood it, — only two weeks before she expected to graduate, without 
the benefit of counsel or assistance, or a consultation with father, mother, 
or friends, and informed by Dr. Torsey, that " she had better leave that 
day," the very day on which she did leave ; — that she left that day in the 
morning, in a state of extreme mental excitement, in her soiled every-day 
apparel, after divesting herself of her jewelry, and taking nothing but her 
reticule with her ; — that it was known to Dr. T. that she had so left in the 
forenoon, and concern and fears were expressed to him that she would 
destroy herself before night ; yet no means were taken to watch, follow, or 
protect her, until her sister, at six o'clock in the afternoon, was sent home, 
a distance of twenty-five miles in a direction opposite to that L. had taken, 
to give me information, where she did not arrive till twelve o'clock that 
night ; — that the skeleton key was given her years before, by a student, 
and kept as a kind of keepsake ; and that while having the key was 
charged against her as a crime, no attempt has ever been made to prove 
that " she ever used it wrongfully ; " — that a prejudice had existed against 
her, which had been indulged previous to this last affair ; — that threats had 
been made to her, seemingly on account of this prejudice ; — that she had 
suffered under such threats, till there existed in her mind a presentiment 
that she should never graduate, which had been frequently expressed to her 
friends ; —that in fact she did not find at that institution that " safe and 
pleasant home " which she had been promised by their circulars ; but 
that, being driven to despair by cruel or indiscreet acts, she was left, by her 
promised protectors, with indifference, to self-destruction. 

In order that my readers may understand the position, condition, ancl 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 7 

standing of Louise at the time this affair occurred, which commenced on 
the 21st and terminated on the 23d day of May, 1866, I will give a brief 
outline of the history of her connection with this institution. 

In March, 1861, we carried our daughter, M. Louise, to Kent's Hill, 
Readfield, Maine, where she entered, as" a student, the Maine W. Seminary, 
located at that place. After a preparatory course of two years,. she entered 
the Female College department, for a three years' course of hard study. 
She accomplished all the studies, and advanced in all the branches she 
was required to study, to the satisfaction of her teachers and friends. She 
successfully studied Latin, French, German, and various other studies 
required in the course, together with book-keeping, drawing, wax-work, 
pencil-drawing, and oil painting. 

A large number of drawings and oil paintings, executed by her, are left 
in our hands, which will attest to her proficiency in these branches, and to 
her genial powers to accomplish much in the fine arts. 

When she was three years of age she was sick for a long time, and it 
was with the utmost care and exertion that we succeeded in saving her life. 
Again, fr6m the age of twelve to seventeen, her health was extremely poor ; 
so feeble that she lost much of the advantage and opportunity of common- 
school education. 

At an early age she exhibited much tact and aptness in learning, espe- 
cially in spelling. At the age of twelve, she composed and wrote, unaided 
by any one, quite an interesting story, which was published at the time. 
She soon became much interested in literature, and desired a liberal educa- 
tion. We wished the same (when I say we, the kind reader will understand 
that I mean myself, and the afflicted and loving mother of our deceased 
child) , but did not think her health would admit of the attempt until she 
was seventeen years of age, when we took her, hesitatingly, to that relig- 
ious institution, being somewhat influenced and induced to this step by the 
promise and inducement held out in their circular, which gave us the assur- 
ance of our there finding " a safe and pleasant home" for our daughter. 

For the purpose of showing the blandishment of that assurance, and the 
fidelity with which, in my case, it has been carried out, I will quote a few 
sentences from the circular, which is now before me : — 

" Most of the teachers board with the students, and no reasonable pains 
are spared to promote the comfort and improvement of the boarders. Par- 
ents may feel assured that their sons and daughters will find here a safe 
and pleasant home. Students will furnish their own sheets, pillow-cases, 
towels, and toilet soap ; and they should see that every article for washing 
is plainly marked with the owner's name." 



8 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

Louise continued a student at this institution until May 23, 1866. She 
had been successful in her studies, the goal of her ambition was almost 
reached, and she expected to graduate with honor in two weeks, and receive 
her diploma. ' I had no notice of her being in any trouble at school until 
the evening of May 23, at twelve o'clock. At midnight my third daughter, 
Chestina, arrived home in a state of extreme excitement, and informed me 
of the case, and that L. had left the Hill, in an awful state of mind, and 
gone towards Lewiston. I was informed that she was accused of taking 
things not belonging to her. 

Subsequently I had a specification of these charges from the pen of Dr. 
T. himself. In a letter to me dated June 30, 1866, he says : " The facts, I 
believe, are these : Louise sent, at different times, bundles of clothing to 
the wash, from which were taken by the wash-girl five articles of clothing 
not hers. In her room were found nine or ten articles, some of them 
marked, and some of them not having been sent to the wash, — some of 
them belonging out of the building. Before they were shown her, she 
denied she had such articles in her room. The money she took and put 
out of her hands at once. For three years she had kept a skeleton key 
opening all of the students' rooms." 

Prof. Robinson, in a letter dated November 12, 1866, makes the follow- 
ing statement : " The, facts in the case are these : after as private an inves- 
tigation as possible, Miss Greene acknowledged that she had taken several 
articles that did not belong to her ; also, that she had taken money from 
one of the young ladies ; also, that she had had in her possession, for two 
years, a false key, which would open most all the students' rooms in the 
college." 

The public now have before them all. the charges made against my 
daughter by the authorities of the institution at Kent's Hill, in the lan- 
guage of the president, and one other member of the faculty. 

It will be noticed that the first was written to me, at a time when it 
seemed possible that my daughter was yet alive, while the latter was 
written to another person, after it was known that L.'s tongue was forever 
silent. It is a bold and positive statement, not qualified by an "I believe," 
of which, in its proper place, I will take further notice before I have done. 

These charges have been reiterated and circulated, and, in their circula- 
tion, have been magnified and put in their worst possible form, until a por- 
tion of the community have been led to the conclusion that her character 
was truly so infamous, that her friends' mouths were so completely closed, 
that they dare not appear before the public in her defence. Certain talka- 
tive persons have said : " Mr. Greene dare not make a statement of her 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 9 

case to the public." Even certain Methodist clergymen, as I am informed, 
have alluded to this matter in their churches, reiterating Dr TVs fourteen 
or fifteen counts against L., evidently with prejudice against the deceased, 
or to clear Dr. T. and the faculty from censure. 

The misconstruction put upon the language of L.'s letter to her class, — 
brief extracts only being given to the public, — the misquotation of her let- 
ter, and other damaging insinuations and acts, have determined me to lay 
that letter, and some others, before the public, that public opinion may have 
some more reliable base than incorrect rumors, or pretended and prejudiced 
quotations. 

It is not that I seek controversy, or would willingly enter the arena be- 
fore the public uncalled by duty ; but that I seek at the tribunal of public 
opinion that justice to my loved, lost, and unfortunate child which was de- 
nied her elsewhere ; and I feel confident that, before this Superior Bench, 
though the heavens fall, it will be awarded her, however high in community 
may stand those who would deny her it. 

You will bear with me patiently, kind readers, when ^ou consider that 
almost all the direct and important testimony in this sad case is in the pos- 
session of those whose fame and interest might require that its dark feat- 
ures should be withheld from public gaze ; and that she who was the re- 
cipient of the wrong — if wrong was done her — now sleeps in death. Her 
silent tongue can make no reply, nor testify as to what grating or burning 
words crushed her hopes, broke her heai't, distracted her brain, and severed 
her ties to life forever. 

You will be aware that I shall be under the necessity of going over much 
ground to get at the circumstances and facts bearing on 'this case, in order 
to give the public a proper understanding of the whole afTair. 

As to the character of Louise, I cannot, perhaps, better express my 
views, knowledge, and opinion, than to repeat what we said to Dr. T. at a 
faculty meeting, at which myself and wife were present, one week after L. 
left the Hill. In answer to the charges there brought against her we said : 
" We do know that a more honest, upright, and truthful girl than wasL., 
when she came here, never came under your care. She was strictly honest 
from a child ; and if she is now dishonest you have made her so. She has 
been under your care and control three-fourths of the time for five years 
past, and you are, in a great measure, responsible for her character." 

Dr. T., in the course of the conversation that day, told us that hitherto 
our daughter's character had been irreproachable. Miss Case, the precep- 
tress, told me, in substance, the same, on the second day after L. left. 
She said, in substance, that no suspicion had ever rested on L., and that 



10 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

she would as soon have thought of any one of the teachers being suspected 
as she. Mr. and Mrs. Daggett, each, distinctly, made similar statements as 
to her good character and standing up to Monday night, May 21st, two 
days only before she left. I have noticed that, while none of those who 
first accused L, of misdeeds, and examined into the matter, have ever de- 
nied the truth of the statement made to me respecting her former good 
character, the " facts "of her misdeeds are brought prominently before the 
public on every opportune occasion ; and this other important fact, to the 
benefit of which she was and her memory is entitled, is not even alluded to 
To show the truthfulness of the statements just alluded to, respecting her 
good character, I will lay before the reader a few certificates from those 
with whom she boarded while teaching five terms of school, one yearly, at 
each vacation while attending college. It will be readily seen that few, ex- 
cept her parents, could have a better opportunity than they of ascertaining 
her true character. 

CERTIFICATE OF CITIZENS OF ROXBURY. 

" The undersigned, inhabitants of School District No. 2, in the town of 
Roxbury, do hereby certify that Miss M. Louise Greene, of Peru, taught our 
school in the summer of 1860. She boarded with us during the whole term 
of her school. We can truthfully, and do most cheerfully, say that Miss 
Greene was strictly honest and truthful in all things during her stay with 
us. She was a social, agreeable, and affectionate member of our family 
while stopping with us, and gave good satisfaction as a teacher. 

" Her moral character stood high and above reproach in this community. 
Many of us in this school district have known her from her childhood, and 
we never heard a word against her character until certain reports reached 
us since she left Kent's Hill in May last. 

" Amasa Richards, School Agent. 
Jane Richards. 

"Roxbury, Dec. 1866." 

" We can truly indorse all Mr. Richards and his wife have said, in rela- 
tion to Miss Greene, and to the best of our knowledge we believe her to 
have been honest and truthful in all things. 

" John Huston, Stillman A. Reed, 

Arthusa Huston, John Richards, 

John Reed, Louise Richards, 

Hannah D. Reed, Virgil P. Richards." 



TTTE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 11 



CERTIFICATES OF CITIZENS OF MEXICO. 
" We, the undersigned, inhabitants of School District No. 3, in the town 
of Mexico, do hereby certify that M. Louise Greene, of Peru, taught our 
school in the summers of 1863 and 1865. We, Benjamin Allen and wife, 
certify that she boarded with us the whole of the term of her school, in 1863, 
and that we do cheerfully and heartily say that Miss Greene sustained an 
unblemished character. She was strictly honest and truthful in all things 
during the time she stopped in our family. She was an affectionate, social, 
and agreeable member of our family. She sustained the same agreeable 
manners in the school, and throughout the district, giving general satisfac- 
tion as a teacher. 

"Benjamin Allen, School Agent, 1863. 
Sally Allen." 

" I roomed and slept with Miss Greene this whole term, and, in my 
opinion, a better girl than L. scarce ever lived. I greatly loved and re- 
spected her. I am the daughter of Mr. B. Alien. 

"Lovina S. Richards." 

" We, the subscribers, Victor M. Abbott and wife, do certify that Miss 
Greene boarded in our family the whole term of her school in 1865. We 
can truthfully say that a more social, agreeable, and accomplished girl than 
she then was, is not known to us. We cheerfully and confidently say to 
the public that we know she was strictly honest and truthful during her 
sta} T with us. She was very particular in small, as well as in larger, mat- 
ters and things, — the most, so of any person we ever had in our house. 
She gave full and perfect satisfaction as a teacher, and was loved and much 
respected by all the citizens of this neighborhood. 

"Victor M. Abbot, School Agent, 1865, 
E. A. Abbot. 

"Mexico, Dec. 1866." 

" Every article of jewelry, belts, buckles, trinkets, and fancy articles of 
various descriptions, which I owned, were in my bureau-drawers, and other 
boxes, in the room which Miss Greene occupied, and in which she slept all 
the time she boarded with us ; and all were left unlocked, open, and at her 
view, at all times. Nothing was missed or disturbed by her during her 
stay with us. "E. A. Abbot." 



12 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

u We cheerfully indorse all that Messrs. Allen and Abbot and their 
wives have said, as to the qualifications and accomplishments of Miss 
Greene, and, the general satisfaction she gave, as a teacher, in our district. 

" Her moral character stood high, and above reproach, in our district, and 
in this town. No tongue of slander ever uttered aught against her, for 
truth and honesty, during her stay with us, in the summers of 1863 and 
1865. She was loved and respected by all. 

" Dura Bradford, Neri D. B. Durgin, 

Lois Bradford, Henry W. Park, 

Wm. M. Hall, Benjamin Storer, 

C. E. Hall, Eliza L. Storer, 

Mart A. Brown, Lucy Richards." 

" In 1863, I visited Miss Greene's School, and gave her the best report 
of any teacher in town. 

" L. S. Richards, 

" Chairman of 8. S. Committee of Mexico in 1863." 

CERTIFICATES OF CITIZENS OF PERU. 

" I hereby certify that Miss M. Louise Greene taught the Summer School 
in district No. 9, in Peru, in 1862. She boarded in my family during the 
term. I can truly say, she was truthful and strictly honest during her 
sojourn with us. I never had a more particular, honest, and straight- 
forward person in my family. I have known Miss Greene for sixteen 
years, and never heard anything against her character, except what has 
come from Kent's Hill since May last. I believe her to have been one of 
the best of girls. She was the pride of her parents, and an honor to the 

society and community in which she lived. 

" Eunice Trask. 
" Peru, Dec. 1866." 

" We, the undersigned, inhabitants of the School-District before named, 
so far as we know, or believe, can fully indorse all Mrs. Trask has said, in 
regard to the character and good standing of Miss Greene. We had known 
her for a long time, in the store and post-office kept by her father. As a 
teacher, scholar, and public reader, she had scarcely an equal in this com- 
munity. 

" B. F. Oldham, Daniel Oldham, Jr., (School Agent). 

Columbus Oldham, Sophrona Oldham, 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 13 

Sarah Oldham, Daniel Oldham, 

Sidney Oldham, Priscilla Oldham, 

Joanna Oldham, P. F. Oldham, 

Freeman Irish, Mart J. Oldham, 

Almeda Irish, Wm. Cox, 

S. F. Irish, Louise Cox, 

Lorenzo Irish, Thaddeus Oldham, 

Rose Irish, Thaddeus Oldham, Jr., 

Lysander Foster, Sarah P. Oldham, 

John Oldham." 

" We, the undersigned, inhabitants of School-District No. 4, in the 
town of Peru, do hereby certify, that Miss M. Louise Greene taught the 
school in our district, in 1864. She boarded in our family during the 
term, and we can truly say that she was strictly honest and truthful in all 
things, during her sojourn with us. We never had a more social, pleasant, 
and agreeable boarder in our house. 

"Having known Miss Greene for seventeen years past, ever since she 
was five years of age, we freely testify that we never heard a word against 
her moral character, until after she left Kent's Hill, May 23, 1866. We 
were acquainted with her in the store and post-office kept by her father, 
and knew her as a scholar and teacher, and never knew aught against her. 

" George W. White, (School Agent), 
Polly K. White. 
" Peru, Dec, 1866." 

" We can cheerfully indorse all that Mr. and Miss White have said, 
relative to the character and standing of Miss Greene in this town and 
community. 

" Her fine accomplishments and brilliant powers of mind, made her an 
ornament and honor to the community and society in which she moved." 

" E. G. Austin, Thomas Burgess, 

Wm. A. Austin, Elizabeth Burgess, 

A. L. Haines, Otis Wyman, 

Lydia Austin, Mary A. Wyman, 

Judith Austin, S. S. Wyman, 

Lorenzo Knight, Mehitable A. Wyman, 
Kelief E. Knight." 



14 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

I will here state that in the year 1849 1 became a resident, and went 
into trade in the town of Peru, my place being central in the town, and 
but a few rods from the house where the town meetings are holden. I 
have kept 'the central post-office of Peru all of the time since I moved 
into this town. Having no boys to assist me, and L. being naturally 
active and expert with the pen, when at home, was much in the store, 
assisting me in the post-office, and in waiting on customers, frequently 
having the whole care and charge in my absence, — thereby becoming 
acquainted with a great portion of the citizens of the town. 

To show the tone of public opinion in her own town, where she has been 
known from her childhood, I will introduce to the public a certificate of 
prominent citizens of Peru, who, from the circumstances just named, have 
had good opportunities of knowing the character of Louise, and they well 
understand the sentiments and feelings of the people generally in this 
vicinity concerning her. These are citizens who have held places of honor 
and trust in this town, within a few years past, and many of them are well 
known to the public. 



CERTIFICATE OF PROMINENT CITIZENS OF PERU. 

" We, the undersigned, citizens of Peru, hereby certify that Miss M. 
Louise Greene, the young lady whose tragical death occurred in the woods 
in Auburn, sometime in the month of May last, under such painful cir- 
cumstances, had been a resident of Peru from her .childhood. From 
personal acquaintance and public report, we knew her to be a girl of 
irreproachable and unblemished character, and of unsullied reputation. 
ller amiable disposition and affability of manners won for her general 
respect and esteem. She had the reputation of being an excellent and 
accomplished scholar, and a competent and successful teacher. Her truth- 
fulness, honesty, integrity, virtue, and fidelity were never subjects of 
doubt or suspicion in this community. 

" Being naturally kind-hearted, and of a very sensitive temperament, 
she was generous and charitable, and a ready sympathizer with suffering 
humanity. 

" While we freely and unhesitatingly bear testimony to the virtue and 
good character of this lamented young lady, justice to her memory impels 
us to say, that in our opinion, whatever unfortunate circumstance or occur- 
rence might have operated, directly or indirectly, as the primary cause of 
her untimely end, it was not her fault or crime, but her misfortune. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 15 

" Town Officer for 1866. 

Selectmen. 

Andrew J. Churchill (Ex-Mem. of S. S. 

Committee). 
Isaac Chase (Ex-Member of Legislature). 
Henry S. McIntire (Ex-Mem. of Leg.) 

Town Clerk. 

Sumner R. Newell (Ex-mem. of Leg. and 
Chairman of S. S. Committee). 

Town Treasurer. 

William H. Walker (Ex-mem. of S. S. 
Committee). 

IS. S. Committee. 

S. G. Wyman. 

Charles B. Woodsum (Cons, and Collector). 

Wm. K. Ripley (Ex-Selectman). 

Clergymen. 

William Woodsum. 
Samuel S. Wyman. 
Peter Hopkins, Jr. 

Ex-Officers of the Town. 

William Woodsum, Jr., Trial Justice (Ex- 
Clerk). 
L. H. Maxim, M. D. (Ex-S. S. C.) 
L. D. Delano (Ex-S. S. C.) 
Daniel Hall (Cons, and Col. 1867. Ex-S. M.) 
Thomas I. Demerite (Ex-mem. L. Ex-S. M.) 
Wm. B. Walton (Ex-mem. Leg.) 
Otis Wyman (Ex-S. M. and Ex-S. S. C.) 
Benjamin Lovejoy (Ex-S. M.) 
Cyrus Dunn (Ex-S. M.) 
James Barrows (Ex-S. M.) 
Wm. K. Greene (Ex-S.S. C.) 
Samuel Holmes (Ex-mem. L. and Ex- S. M.) 
Benjamin Allen (Ex-S. M.) 



16 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

Ira Wormell (Ex-Cons, and Col.) 
Charles F. Deshon (Ex-S. M.) 
Winslow Walker (Ex-S. M. and Ex-Clerk). 
Jabez M. Phillips (P. M. E. Peru). 
Merrill Knight (S. M. 1867, Ex-S. S. Com.) 
Public School Teachers. 
Wm. S. Walker, H. Albert Hall, 

Mercy C. Lunt, Elisha S. Wyman, 

William P. Brackett, Jr., Sarah M. Brackett, 
A. M. Knight (Member of S. S. C. 1867.) 
Martha A. Hopkins, Olevia Hopkins, 

Mary A. Carter, Benj. F. Walton, 

Addie H. Dunn, Noah Hall, 

Phebe F. Churchill." 

The reader perhaps may ask, How did it happen that, contrary to the 
rules of the institution, requiring " every article for the wash to be plainly 
marked," your daughter's clothing was not all properly marked? In ex- 
planation, I will here state that the first term she went to that school, and 
boarded in the college building, all her articles of wearing apparel, hand- 
kerchiefs, and such things as go into the wash, were plainly marked, as 
required by the rules of the institution; but this did not protect them. 
She lost, at that term, three pairs of black woollen stockings, plainly 
marked " M. L. G." with red woollen yarn ; two linen handkerchiefs, 
plainly marked ; one pair high rubbers ; one good umbrella ; and three 
dollars in money, — it being all she had at the time. She immediately 
wrote home to know, or inquire, what she had better do about it. Her 
mother sent her more money, and replaced the articles lost, and said to 
her, " If you make a stir about the matter your chum will be suspected, 
and as she is sent there by the kindness of her friends, and is a poor girl, 
it may seriously injure her by destro3^ng their confidence ; and you had 
better lose the money." This was in 1861, when she had not the same 
room-mate as when she left the Hill. Soon after this a dollar's worth of 
postage-stamps were taken from a book in her trunk. Being postmaster, 
and having a supply of stamps, I thought best to furnish her with a suffi- 
cient number to last her through the term. The money and stamps were 
lost in the early part of the term. Louise did not think it was her chum 
that took the money or stamps. At the close of this term I carried my 
second daughter, Estelle, down to the closing exhibition. On the way 
down she purchased a pair of long mitts, for which she paid a dollar. 
Leaving them in Louise's room while she went to a meal, on returning she 



THE CHOWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 17 

found they had disappeared. She never found them. She lost, also, at 
that time, a black veil there. 

During her second term Louise lost some small articles, such as hand- 
kerchiefs and towels, and one plainly marked chemise. Thir % d term she 
lost one pair lace under-sleeves, one flannel under-skirt, marked, and two 
marked nightcaps. Fourth term : one pair sandal rubbers, new that 
term. Fifth term : one pair marked ruffled drawers, some napkins, and a 
handkerchief. Sixth term : one pair of spotted muslin under-sleeves, three 
pairs of white woollen stockings, — all she had, and all plainly marked. 
Seventh term : one veil, some napkins, and other small articles. Eighth 
term : she lost one new cotton skirt, marked on the inside of the binding, 
one wide red silk scarf. And, in fact, at every term when she boarded in 
the college building, she lost more or less of such articles as napkins, 
towels, handkerchiefs, veils, gloves, drawers, stockings', etc., etc. Marking 
appeared not to protect her against loss, nor prevent articles from mysteri- 
ously disappearing. In this condition of things, was it any wonder that 
we should become remiss or careless about seeing that every article was 
" plainly marked " ? And was our daughter alone guilty and censurable for 
such neglect, when other students, and even her teacher, one of the faculty, 
could go into her room, and, without hesitation or apology, claim and take 
unmarked articles therefrom which came from the unmarked pile sent to 
the wash ? 

Louise's mother would sometimes upbraid her for meeting with so many 
losses. She would reply, "Am I to blame for these losses? I put these 
articles into the wash. They were lost there, and not returned to me. 
Some of them may yet turn up. We do sometimes get them, after a long 
while." 

The high price of board at the college, and the annoyance of losing 
clothing in the manner I have just stated, induced me, in the fall of 1865, 
(being Louise's thirteenth term) to hire a room in Mr. A. Packard's house, 
where Louise and her two sisters set up house-keeping, so far as to board 
themselves, while attending school. While they boarded themselves in 
this house, which was through Louise's thirteenth and fourteenth terms, 
they hired a lady to wash for them, and every article was returned to them 
correctly. There was no more trouble about losing clothing until Louise 
went back to the college building to board, in March, 1866. This was her 
fifteenth and last term at this school, and she was to have graduated at the 
close of this term. As soon as she came in contact with this loose practice 
of mixing unmarked articles of clothing, she began to lose again both 
marked and unmarked articles. She went to board in the college just 
2 



18 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORE, 

eleven weeks before she was sent away, or " advised to leave," on the 23d 
of May, 1866. Had she continued to board with her sister in the Packard 
house (which had been purchased by Dr. T.) through this her last term, I 
have no doubt she would have graduated, and would have been now living. 
I charged Dr. T., in that faculty meeting to which I have before alluded, 
with permitting a practice in its nature demoralizing to the young, by 
allowing the rule, of having articles for the wash " plainly marked," to be 
disregarded ; that it had a tendency to lead them to dishonesty. I now 
repeat the charge, and will explain how I found matters connected with the 
washing business, or laundry, and leave the public to judge whether I was, 
and am, right. The disposition of articles of clothing washed and ironed 
I found to be in this wise : — All marked articles, sent down to be washed 
by two girls who occupy a certain room, — for example, we will say No. 
20, — are washed, ironed, and put into a box by the side of the room 
marked No. 20, corresponding with the number of the .room from which 
they came. But if there were unmarked articles, they could not be so put 
into the right boxes, as the person who irons them could not possibly tell 
where they belonged, but they were thrown in a pile on a large table. 

Thus the unmarked clothing of sixty girls, more or less, from about 
thirty-three rooms, would make a very large pile, from which, at the usual 
time, the girls came in and hastily selected such articles as they thought were 
their own. There was no person to see to the delivery of them ; so said Mrs 
Dagget, the matron, who showed us the condition of things, and told us 
that there was a great pile of unmarked articles of various descriptions, 
from the smallest to the largest, which came from the rooms of these sixty 
female students, and were deposited on this table ; and that the girls came 
in squads, or singly, and after takiug their marked articles from the boxes, 
if they had any that were unmarked, or if, by mistake, some that were 
dimly or unplainly marked had got on to the table with the unmarked ones, 
they went sometimes in a lively mood and in a hurly-burly hastily and 
thoughtlessly selected from the pile, as before stated, there being no one 
to look after and deliver the clothing. In this state of things, I would ask, 
would not many mistakes be very likely to occur? Would it not be very 
easy for any one, who should feel disposed so to do, to say, "I have lost 
such and such articles," — whether they have or not, — and take from this 
common pile articles not their own, as it is known to all that nobody is 
responsible for such unmarked clothing? Those who wash and irod fully 
understand that they cannot he held responsible for the return of this 
amount of unmarked ladies' clothing, of every description. Was it strange 
T ^"isp'^ clothing* should tret mixed un with others', and tV.ot f f *h-t- 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 19 

cles she had lost in the wash she should take others to wear, until her own 
should " turn up"? However wrong it might be, it was a practice, as it 
appears, that was indulged to some considerable extent at that insti- 
tution. 

In my judgment the faculty are censurable for this palpable disregard of 
this their printed standing rule. It was, as I told them in the faculty 
meeting, demoralizing to the young, and alike tempting to students and 
those who had the care of, or access to, the laundry, to allow such a prac- 
tice to exist. It would have been very easy to have said to the laundress. 
" Return every unmarked article to the room from whence it came, 
unwashed ; " or, " Return the bundles containing such articles, and say to 
those to whom they belong, ' Nothing will be washed, until the well-known 
rule of the school is complied with.'" Had this been done, my child, I 
believe, would have been this day living. Who is responsible for her fate ? 
Why should the " sin of omission" be passed over in silence, while the act 
to which it directly leads is dealt with without mercy, palliation, or for- 
bearance ? 

The reason of Louise's leaving self-boarding at the Packard house, and 
going to the college building, was that the rest of her class seven in 
number, were all going there to board through this their last term, and 
it was deemed advisable, by her and us, that she should go with them. 
She did go directly from the Packard house to the college, the same day 
that I took Estelle, her eldest sister, home. Estelle helped her pick up 
her clothing, and other things, to take to the college, thereby knowing 
what she had to take with her there. 

In two weeks after Louise went to the college building to board, her 
mother went down to carry our third daughter, Chestina, to the school, and 
to the same room to board which L. and E. had occupied the previou* 
term. She carried also articles of clothing to Louise. In about seven 
weeks Mrs. Greene went to Kent's Hill again, to carry provisions to thp 
self-boarder and clothes and money to both. At this time L. remarked to 
her mother that she and others were losing things in the wash worse than 
ever, and named several articles she had lost. This was about ten days 
before L. left the Hill. When Mrs. G. arrived at the Hill, on this visit, 
she found that L. had not been up much through the day, and complained 
of her head, and said " she had experienced much severe pain in her head, 
— had strange sensations in her eyes and head, and was afraid her head 
would be in as bad a condition as it was some years ago," before she came 
to Kent's Hill. Some seven or eight years previously L. was so severely 
afflicted with neuralgia, as to incapacitate her for much physical or mental 



20 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

labor, and it prevented her from attending the town schools, much of the 
time, for nearly two years, — her head, especially, being much disordered. 
In a conversation with her mother, at the time I have alluded to, being the 
last time they ever saw each other, she said, " I feel so tired that I think, 
after I get through here, I shall want to sleep all summer." 

An old student, who had not attended school at that institution for about 
a year, writes me, and says : " I saw her a short time before her death, and 
she seemed to be considerably worn out by hard study. I think if the thing 
could have been kept quiet, and she allowed to graduate, the offence would 
not have been atoned for by her life." 

Before her return home, Mrs. G-. went with L. to Lewiston to make va- 
rious purchases preparatory for exhibition, and other purposes. On return- 
ing to the Hill, Mrs. G-. found that L. was much worn and tired out. The 
fatigue and many demands on her, — the much she had to do and attend 
to, — her studies, composition, exhibition-piece to write and prepare to read 
on the stage, — the excitement as the time of graduation was drawing near, 
— how she should appear, and how succeed, — all combined, wrought 
heavily upon her tired and worn constitution, and overtaxed mind, which 
had endured the pressure, the wear and tear of five years of close mental 
labor. A constant and terrible fear, which had troubled her mind for two 
years, — that the prejudice, which she conceived had existed against her, 
in the minds of a portion of the faculty, and with Dr. T. in particular, 
would be brought to bear, and tell against her, to prevent her from gradu- 
ating, — now haunted her with renewed intensity, as the time drew near. 
She seemed to have a presentiment that she should never graduate, ami 
often expressed it. All these things had operated, with her physical weak 
ness, nervous temperament, and sensitive nature, to nearly dethrone rea 
son ; so much so, that when Mrs. G. left her, only nine days before L. left 
the Hill, she caught hold of her mother's dress, and made a singular and 
wild request, of which Mrs. G. informed me when she returned home. 

In writing to me, another old student says : " I went to Lewiston at the 
time she and her mother did. I noticed that she was remarkably still ; 
that is, did not appear so cheerful as she was wont. I had been well ac- 
quainted with her for some four years. I have no doubt in my mind that 
she was not herself at the time. I have thought all the time that she 
studied so hard as to affect her mind." 

I have named these circumstances, that the public can judge whether L, 
was in a condition of mind to endure the severe and heartless ordeal 
through which, with no mother or earthly friend on whom to lean, she was 
forced to pass ; and to see if the heart of charity among my readers can 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOKN. 21 

find nothing that will plead in extenuation of the guilt of that act, com- 
mitted only a few days after the period to which I have alluded. They 
will also explain the condition of L.'s mind, and why she said to Miss 
Case, when she and Mrs. Daggett were ransacking Chestina's and Miss 
Reed's room, to see if they could not find more articles that others would 
claim, " I feel so strange ! I wish I could think ; but I can't." 

These expressions were made after this Christian lady had so well suc- 
ceeded in impressing upon the mind of her old pupil, whose " character had 
hitherto been irreproachable," the " enormity of her crime." These cir- 
cumstances, before named, will show whether L. was a fit subject, at that 
time, upon whom that cold-hearted yet fluent lady ought to have exercised 
her power of language, further to confuse and distract her mind. And 
they likewise show why L. said in that memorable class-letter : " I think, 
maybe I am not exactly as I used to be, while I write this, for my head 
whirls, and I cannot seem to think, — to say what I am trying to say ; " 
and also in her last letter to her sister : " If I know myself, it was not the 
true, real Louise Greene that did this. She was trying to live an honest, 
womanly life ; or, if she was indeed drifting into disgrace, she never real- 
ized it." Who will doubt that, under prolonged mental labor, her active 
and ever sensitive mind had become unbalanced? and that injudicious, 
indiscreet, and unchristian treatment, and unpardonable neglect, springing 
from prejudice (as we believe), closed up every avenue of hope for the 
future in life, and sent this poor, heart-broken, despairing girl into eternity ? - 

The last words she ever wrote in the college, as it appears, were these : 
"Heart breaking. Dearly beloved, adieu ! " These were evidently written 
directly after the interview with Dr. T., when she was advised "to leave 
that day." 

As I have said something about L.'s fear of the operation or consequences 
of prejudice, I will now give some of the reasons why she and we knew 
that prejudice existed against her. It was known to us that a prejudice 
was growing up between her and Dr. T., in the summer of 1864. As I 
shall occasionally quote from various letters, and from other writings which 
she has left, I will here state that when I quote from any letter, or writing, 
I use the exact language, having the originals before me. She complained 
to her mother — and her writings show the same complaints — of petty 
annoyances, of insinuations to her, by Dr. T., that she was not just what 
he wanted her to be ; and of his explaining some petty rule of school, and 
ridiculing some little acts of students after prayers, etc., in a sarcastic 
way. 

I received a letter from her dated "Kent's Hill, August 28, 1864." in 



22 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

which she says : " I have kept almost all of the little unpleasant things whioh 
have troubled me, from 3^011, thinking not best to trouble you with them ; 
but the denial of my reasonable request to go home with May Chapman, 
who lives less than two miles from the Hill." — May C. had been L.'s 
room-mate for some time ; but on account of some difficulty, her father had 
decided to take her from this school, and send her to the institution at 
Westbrook. The difficulty appeared to be like this : Miss Case had asked 
May to rise for prayers, and she declined. This, with some other intima- 
tions from Miss Case, or some of the faculty, which annoyed May, coming 
to her father's ears, he questioned her relative to the matter. She informed 
him of the case, and told him she thought Miss C. appeared different 
towards her after this transaction. Mr. C, after having some sharp talk 
with Dr. T., took M. home. Louise had written to May that she would 
come down on Friday, after recitation, and stop with her till Monday 
morning, as this would be the last opportunity she would have to see her 
before she went to Westbrook. 

Accordingly, M. came up to carry her home with her on Friday, as had 
been suggested. They both went to Dr. T. together, to get permission for 
L. to go, she carrying my general, written permit in her hand. They saw 
Dr. T. on the street. L. made known her request, and he refused to 
grant it. 

They both returned, sorrowfully, to the college, where they saw Miss 
Robinson, L.'s teacher in painting, and sister to the wife of Dr. T. She 
asked them if they explained all to Dr. T., and advised L. to go to his 
house, and ask him again, saying, "I think he will let you go." They 
both went back to Dr. T., and L. stated the reasons why she desired so 
much to go just at that time. He had before let her go, and no good rea- 
son, seemingly, existed, why he then should refuse her. She named her 
general good conduct, which he admitted. 

I will now further quote from her letter of August 28, 1864 : " He gave 
me no answer," she says ; " but turned to May, who had not spoken a word, 
— she was not then a member of his school, — and asked her questions, 
implying that she had told her father that Miss Case asked her to rise for 
prayers, and because she did not do so, she appeared different to her after. 
May says, ' she did tell her father so, and such was her impression.' T. 
says, ' it was not so, and that she had no right to judge Miss Case. You 
must not report such things to hurt the school/ May replies that ' her 
father had questioned her about these things, and she told him ; had not 
mentioned it to any one else. She did not intend to hurt the school.' 
4 Well,' T. said, * you had better see Miss Case about it.' May says, ' I 






THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 23 

see no necessity,' or something to that effect. Returning to the object for 
which I came, I said, ' Mr. Torsey, if your decision is final, I submit ; but 
must say I think it is unjust.' He said, ' You have no right to judge my 
actions.' I knew that, although I had spoken the truth, yet I had better 
not have said it. Almost crying as I was with the bitter disappointment, 
I said, ■ 1 beg j^our pardon, sir, for saying it to j r ou. I spoke before I 
thought.' He said, * Hereafter you need not ask any favors. You have 
prevented the possibility of your ever receiving any. 1 I said, ' It is few favors 
that I have asked ; still less I have received.' I was standing in the door. 
He replied, in a voice full of wrath, ' Miss Greene, you will please leave the 
house I ' ' Yes, sir,' was all I said to him ; and turning to Mrs. Torsey, 
said, ' Good-night.' I held my temper well, for I w r as boiling over with 
rage at that moment. Denied, insulted, and ordered out of his house ! I 
was advised to go home with M., and take the consequence ; but I did not. 
One thing is sure, I did not deserve, nor will I bear, such treatment. 

" Please preserve this letter. This isn't the first of his tyrannizing, nor 
the first insulting words I have borne. I will not bear it any longer. I 
will leave, although I do not want to give up my course of study. Neither 
will I be any man's dog for the crumbs that fall from his table. I do not 
feel greatly indebted to Dr. Torsey. All he has clone is to drain father's 
pockets, and give me what justice demands he should give the meanest stu- 
dent. If I stay here I know the man so well ! He has bidden me to expect 
no favors, and I know that a teacher, watching for a chance, can make 
school life mighty uncomfortable to anybody without doing any open act of 
injustice or petty revenge. No matter how careful one is to obey the rules 
or perform all duties, if he detects the least sign of mental insubordination, 
his wrath is kindled, and finds vent in acts of petty revenge. 

" Dr. T. last winter found a waj^ to give Alice White permission to go to 
ride to Augusta with Mr. B., to see a mutual lady friend and school-mate. 
Now that was a direct violation of one of the fundamental rules of school, 
for a gentleman to take a lad}', miles away, out to ride ! I don't believe 
another couple in school could have got permission. But Dr. T. found a 
way by which he could consistently ( ?) let them go, where he had always re- 
fused others ; and yet I could not go down with my room-mate, when he did 
not pretend but what my parents were willing, and no damage could be 
done to my studies or anything else." She wrote other circumstances in 
detail connected with her case, and finally said : "I shall leave and go to 
Westbrook next Tuesday if I don't hear from you by Monday night." 

This statement of Louise, made to me, I believe to be true to the letter. 
25he said she would read this letter to T. in my presence, and he would not 



24 THE CPwOWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

deny it. To my knowledge, he never sought to impeach her truthfulness 
in this affair. I now ask the candid reader to pause and reflect. What had 
my daughter done, in this case, to deserve to be cut off from the possibility 
of ever receiving any favors at that institution, where she had demeaned 
herself as a dutiful scholar for three years, and had nearly two years longer 
to stay ? And what had she done that she should be expelled wrathfully 
from the house of its principal? Stung at an unjust disappointment, with- 
out reflection, on the spur of the moment, she gave words to a thought, and 
that thought was the truth. She immediately, and in respectful language, 
begged pardon for giving expression to that truth : "I beg your pardon, 
sir, for saying it to you ; I spoke before I thought." Was not this apolo- 
gy sufficient and the petition for absolution respectful enough to insure for 
giveness from any Christian heart ? Yet she was warned that she need ex- 
pect no more favors at that institution, if her words, which have never been 
contradicted, were true. With what fidelity of purpose this position, this 
threat, was adhered to, let the history of May, 1866, testify and proclaim. 

M. Chapman was her old room-mate. They had spent many pleasant 
hours together, and loved each other. M. was about to leave for a distant 
school. As it was not infringing upon her studies, L. requested the privi- 
lege of spending the next Saturday and Sunday with her old chum, at her 
quiet home some two miles distant, to which place M. had expressly come 
with a carriage to carry her. No valid reason existed, or was given, why 
her request could not be granted. Was it just to deny her? and was this 
not one favor, at least, less, which she asked, thaia she had received? Af- 
ter she had been guilty of so small an offence towards Dr. T., and had 
promptly begged pardon, was the spirit of the Gospel here exercised, and 
the transgressor forgiven until " seventy times seven," or even until " sev- 
en times " ? By no means. Pardon was not granted, even for one time, 
though it was sought with humility. 

Let the reader remember that hasty decision, and the penalt}^ awarded, 
and recollect that the same tribunal, if not the same principles, disposition, 
and antipathy, survived on Kent's Hill on the fatal twenty-third clay of 
May, 1866. " Does the leopard change his spots, or the Ethiopian his 
skin ? " 

To L.'s letter I replied on the same day, as follows : — 

"August 28, 1864. 
" Dear Martha L., — I am sorry to have you leave this school until you 
finish your course of studies. I never like the idea of change ; but I was 
not made to be domineered over by any one, and am not willing my chil- 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 25 

dreii should be. But j t ou had much better remain on the Hill, as you have 
just arrived there, than to leave so soon. You will not find everything 
pleasant at any school. You had better stay, if this difficulty can be ad- 
justed ; if not, 3 t ou will please write me again, and I will advise you far- 
ther. Mother will copy what I have written to Dr. Torsey, and send it to 
you. J. Greene." 

On the same day that I wrote to L., I wrote also to Dr. T., as follows : — 

" Professor Torsey : Dear Sir, — My daughter has written me, as she 
says, a correct statement of the interview with you ; such, as she says, 
she will read to you in my presence, and appeal to you for its correctness. 
Whether she had done right or not, when she asked pardon, I think she did 
not deserve such a rebuff at your house. You tell her to leave your house, 
and that • she is precluded from the possibility of receiving any more favors 
at this school.' How do you think she feels, with these words continually 
soundiug in her mind, i You cannot receive any more favors at this school/ 
with nearly two 3*ears before she gets through her studies under you, and 
with the feelings she must now have towards you ? Her school-days are 
made so unpleasant by your ungentlemanly treatment at y our house, that, 
unless some reconciliation can be had, she will leave your school, and that 
immediately. As much as she and I regret her loss or disappointment, at 
not graduating at your college, I will not advise her to remain. 

" No man, in this free and enlightened land, can unjustly domineer over 
my children with impunity. • I believe she intended to be governed by the 
rules of your school. No complaint from the faculty has come to my 
knowledge but what she stood as well as the average of students, in all re- 
spects, as to studies and promptness in duties assigned her. 

" I exceedingly" regret the necessity of this communication. I have writ- 
ten her, that if no reconciliation or adjustment be had, she might leave 
your institution. Yours respectful^, 

"Jonas Greene." 

When I wrote this letter I was not aware — nor am I now — that his dig- 
nity or position forbade or precluded me from speaking, plainly and in ear- 
nest, to Dr. T., as I would to any other man ; or that there was anything 
improper in so cloiug. Nor will I now say that hidden motives of ven- 
geance, after slumbering for months, sprang to life and exercise, to accel- 
erate, for this freedom, a joint penalty, at the first favorable opportunity, 
on her and me. Dr. T. replied to my letter August 29, 1864, in his smooth 
4 



26 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

manner, excusing himself, but not denying anything that L. had written 
me. He said " he had given her permission to go to the Corner once, on a 
visit, and once she went without permission." Among other things, he said 
that her unladylike manner of saying that " he had done her injustice," or 
words to that effect, and " the manner and tone of her asking pardon, 
was not satisfactory to him." He also said, " I suppose she cannot leave 
the school, and her name stand fair on our record ; " closing his letter with an 
insinuation against L., but not specifying anything. The reader will no- 
tice his attempt or threat, thus early, to disgrace her on their records, if she 
left the school, probably by putting some mark against her name ; such as 
" Left under censure/' or something of the kind. This threat in his letter 
to me accounts, or explains the cause, for her language in her next letter 
to me, wherein she saj^s : u I shall not leave in disgrace. No doubt he 
would like to, but how can he have me expelled? Where is the act which 
he can fasten an expulsion upon? But if I stay Jiere, that is what I fear." 

The misdemeanor of going to the Corner " without permission," of which 
Dr. T. complained, as L. afterwards explained to her mother, was perpe- 
trated in the manner following : Louise and another student were going 
down to the Corner (Readfield Corner) on a brief visit. Being in a hurry, 
L. said to her school-mate : " When you get permission to go, get the same 
for me." (They could get such permit from Dr. T., or any one of the 
teachers ; but after being refused by any one of them, they were not allowed 
to go to any other one for the same thing.) The other girl forgot, in her 
haste, to ask permission for either. So both went without a permit. On 
their return Dr. T. called them to account, they being together at the time 
of the interview. The other young lady says : "I forgot to ask permis- 
sion." L., seeing then how the case stood, says : "If that be so, I am in 
the same condition. I thought you got permission for us both." Dr. T. 
says to the other lady : " I will overlook it in you ; but, Miss- Greene, I 
shall remember it in you." 

Louise wrote me again Sept. 5, 1864 ; from which letter I make the fol- 
lowing extracts : — 

" I carried your letter to Torsey. He was non-committal, sa3'ing but 
little either way. But one thing he must do, — take back or modify tins 
saying : ' Hereafter you need expect no more favors of me or the school.' 
I think he would have granted the request, if May Chapman and her 
family had been ' all right on the goose' (they were Universalists, as I 
then understood them) , and if I had been one of the Torsey worshippers. 
I told Miss Robinson, that Dr. Torsey wanted to be to Kent's Hill, what 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOE*. 27 

God is to the universe. No matter how well one tries to do, if he sees the 
least mental insubordination, he is down on them. I see clearly enough 
how I could be one of his favorites. Consider his wishes law, his decisions 
perfect, — let him act for you, think for you, and own you soul and body, 
and lo ! your path up the hill of science is smooth as a gravelled walk. 
There was a time when I would have striven for Dr. T.'s friendship ; but 
now, I would not take it as a free gift, — all I ask, is justice at his hand. 
All I grant him, is those rights, which every teacher is authorized to de- 
mand. 

" If I go home now, I am sure I shall not leave in disgrace. No doubt 
he would like to, but how can he have me expelled ? What rule have I 
broken ? What evil influence have I exerted ? Where is the act which he 
can fasten an expulsion upon ? But if I stay here, that is what I fear. 
With a desire for revenge, and dislike for me as motive, won't he find 
something in the course of two years that will pass for a reason why I 
shall be sent home, or at least reprimanded publicly ? I leave this question 
for you to think of. It has been an important one with me." 

Reader, say you that she had no foundation for those fears, save delusion 
or vague imagination ? and that she did not u discern the signs of the times," 
and comprehend the disposition, power, and means of those, who measurably 
held her destiny in their hands ? If so, and she had discovered nothing 
to arouse apprehension and fear, was it not singular, that an occurrence so 
sad, corresponding so nearly with her expressed fears, should have trans- 
pired within the time she specified ? I have been censured, and I now 
deeply regret that I did not give more attention to her request to leave the 
school. May God and her angel forgive me for the unintentional mistake ! 
Mine was an act of supposed kindness and affection, not of caprice, preju- 
dice, or revenge. Had I then known, as I now know, the many petty 
annoyances she so quietly endured of the " pimps and spies" that were 
around her, to report every little act, every " dislike" of which she was 
suspected ("mental subordination" I believe they call it), I certainly 
should have taken her away. 

It will be noticed that she says in her letter to me, " one thing he must 
do, take back, or modify this saying : " Hereafter you need expect no 
favors," etc. As the matter was dropped, or as I heard no more about it, 
I supposed he did modify, or take it back. I supposed they fixed it up in 
some way, but how I never knew. 

I will now invite attention to some of these annoyances and petty 
complaints which my daughter endured, and to which I have alluded. The 
reader will please hear her, and allow her, though dead, to tell her own 



28 THE CROWN "WON BUT NOT WORN. 

story. If she had acted the hypocrite, so far as to have impressed uj^on 
the mind of Dr. T. the idea that she " was with them," I have no doubt it 
would have saved her the annoyance of the following described lecture, or 
of being made the subject of so long a string of complaints. On leaves 
of memoranda in the last part of her 1865 diary, under date of April 11th, 
I find the following : — 

" Dr. Torsey, in Miss Robinson's room, said, * he came to me, not on 
account of particular violation of rules, but because it was the general 
impression among the faculty, that I was not with them, heart and soul. 
Marks had come to him, chiefly for being out of room, and light burning. 
It was not so much that; but, so general an impression among so many 
teachers that I was not with them, must have some foundation.' Said 
* Mr. Daggett told him my influence in the school was not good.' Must 
see Mr. Daggett. I guess he meant that hateful whispering morning. 
Said, * Some one told Mr. Daggett that I laughed while he was talking.' 
(I think the question should be, not ' Did I laugh? ' but, ' Did I try to keep 
from laughing?' if he considers motives so all powerful.) Mentioned 
class, and said, ' A gentleman told him he was provoked, after the remark 
I made at prayers, — " darned fool " — to see me in class.' He said, ' some 
said, I went to gain the regard of a certain young gentleman.' I told him, 
4 1 thought religious matters concerned me alone. 1 I told him, ' he would 
find, by inquiry, that I had made it a rule to attend one class-meeting, at 
least, every term,' and I have done so. He said, ' the teachers thought I 
was one who would lead others into mischief, and keep out of it myself. 
There would be a great hubbub in the chapel, among the girls, and I 
would be found looking in at the door.' I told him, ' when I was suspected, 
they need only ask, and they could know how far I was concerned. I 
never lied myself out of a scrape yet.' He asked me if I was willing to 
apologize for saying ' darned fool ? ' Told him, ' Yes.' He asked ' if I 
would apologize to those to whom I said it ? ' I said, ' Yes, if he would 
tell me who they were.' And there I had him ; for that would come pretty 
near telling where he got his information. 

" Dr. T. said, ' Student had voluntarily told him these little things. 
He had asked Mrs. Brownell about me, and she said, she had seen me 
standing, — did not know how long, but less than fifteen minutes, — talk- 
ing with a gentleman on the side-walk ; ' which looked as though I was 
coming as near to breaking a rule as I could, and not do it. He asked 
Mr. Daggett, and he said, l I was giving him trouble, more hy influencing 
others, than by actual misdeed.' He said, ' He thought it his duty to tell 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 29 

me. if I did anything that looked like a wilful violation of rule, I could 
expect little forbearance from the faculty/ I told him, ' I had felt that 
ever since last fall ; ' — (the turning her out of his house, etc., — I suppose 
she meant), — ' and had been careful accordingly.' In conclusion, he said, 
1 Well, Louise, what can we do about this? ' ' What do you wish me to 
do ? ' I said. 4 1 want you to begin anew, and from the very bottom of 
your heart, say, I will faithfully endeavor to obey the rules of the insti- 
tution.' ' I did that last fall, and I will continue to do it,' I said ; ' but I 
do not feel very much encouraged at your opinion of my efforts,' I added. 
He mentioned Professor Perley again, — about what he said I said at West 
Peru. I said, ' If there is anything I can do or say, if you will write your- 
self, or want me to write to auybody concerning that, you have only 
to say it, and it shall be done.' Then he said, ; It is not so much these 
little things; but the source from which they come must be pure, — the 
original intention right.' I said, * I don't know what you mean by that.' 
I must ask Professor Robinson if he feels fully satisfied about what I said 
about going down to the Corner ; as Dr. T. said to-day he did not. I have 
written fully, and as much as I could verbatim, as I may have occasion to 
remember what was said." 

Perhaps I should here explain, that Mrs. Brownell, here named, 
was the wife of Mr. Brownell, who was at that time one of the faculty. 
They were not there at the time L. left ; and it would seem as if she wag 
watching to see if any of the young ladies violated this fifteen minutes' 
rule of talking with gentlemen on the street. Mrs. B. did not say how 
long, but less than fifteen minutes, she saw her talking. Having seen 
in this record of Louise what Torsey said, that Daggett complained to T. 
about Louise giving him trouble, I, Nov. 8, 1866, asked Mr. D. if Louise 
had been giving him trouble by violation of rules, and that he had reported 
her to T. ? He said, " he did not recollect that he had." Said, " he had 
nothing to do with the rules of government of students ; only oversaw the 
boarding department. He did not know that she gave him any particular 
trouble, anything more than being a little noisy at the table." Said, " I 
spoke to her once or twice at the table." I said, u What was she doing? " 
" Talking and laughing," he said. I said, " Anything more than having a 
lively talk and laugh ? " He said, " that was all." I have in every possible 
way tried to ascertain if there was any good reason for his complaints 
against her "little things," as he said students kg&L told him, and others 
had reported or complained to him about ; and 1 find that they are small 
things, mostly without foundation, which looks more like his seeking 



30 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

(asking Mrs. Brownell, etc.) for some pretence to annoy and find fault 
with her, because of his prejudice, and their conclusions that she was not 
" heart and soul with them." 

Several times, to her mother, L. mentioned Dr. T. with a dislike, a 
fear, and a terrible foreboding of evil. 

What was the occasion, reason, object, or necessity of this visit or inter- 
view, and lecture, at the 100m of Miss Robinson? Of this telling what 
Mr. L. had said, — what Prof. Perley had told that L. had said at W. 
Peru? What Prof. Robinson was not satisfied with, and what some one 
had said about her going to class-meeting to gain the regard of a certain 
gentleman? No pretension was made that she had violated any rule. 
Why, then, this threat, that " if she did anything that looked like a wilful 
violation of rules, she could expect little forbearance from the faculty'*? 
The gist of all the complaints appears to be that there was a " general 
impression among the faculty" that she "was not with them heart and 
soul." In the pursuit of knowledge, in every department of her studies, 
L. lacked no ambition or diligence to excel. Her assiduity insured her a 
laudable proficiency and progress. Her moral character, as Dr. T. himself 
has said, was " irreproachable." She was ever ready to assist and encour- 
age, by words and examples, those who were seeking knowledge and trying 
to do right, as I shall show by the best of testimony hereafter. She was 
not, at the time of this lecture, amenable for the " violation of rules," by 
Dr. T.'s own statement. In what respect, then, was she not with the fac- 
ulty ? And what was that " influence," rather than " misdeeds," of which 
they complained? Was she not, with fidelity and zeal, attending to those 
grand purposes for which such literary institutions ought to be established, 
irrespective of the creeds or tenets of others ? Louise, no doubt, compre- 
hended the variance, and why she was not considered " with them, heart 
and soul," when she told Dr. T. she " thought religious matters concerned 
her alone ; " meaning, without doubt, that in her own religious acts and 
duties she claimed freedom, and the exercise of her own opinion. 

No doubt she understood the drift of such lectures, when she spoke of 
letting others " think for you, and own your soul and body." I charged 
him, in the faculty meeting, with trying to make a hypocrite of her. He 
showed temper, and said, " Do you say we tried to influence her in religious 
matters?" I told him, in substance, that I could not say, by direct Ian 
guage, he did so, but the old proverb said, " Actions speak louder than 
words." 

I named to him about calling her to account three times for exercising 
the right of opinion, in the matter of what Prof. Perley said was told him 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 31 

that L. said at "West Peru, when she was home at vacation, — which was 
merely this : that " self-boarders were not thought so well of, at the Hill, as 
those who boarded at the college building." We told him that if she said 
so she said what was true ; and I asked him what he desired her to do, but 
hypocritically or falsely to say what she did not believe. He said, " there 
was a discrepancy between what Perley said was told him and what L. tolc 
him she said." In the whole I considered it a mean, contemptible affair, 
thus to lend an open and ready ear to tale-bearers, and continue to harass 
and annoy a student with such lectures. I have evidence to show much 
about that matter, if I deemed it necessary. Three times, in the course of 
two years or more (when, as it appears, he had exhausted all other sources 
of complaints), he would call this up, a mere hearsay from third parties. 

The offence of saying " Darned fool," in a whisper, for which she was 
asked to apologize, and which she expressed her willingness to do, L. 
explained to her mother, and in her memoranda, as follows : " That afte* 
prayers Dr. T., as he was accustomed to do, began to lecture the students 
for some offence committed by some of the boys, telling what had hap- 
pened, or what had been told him, and indulging in ridicule in an undigni- 
fied manner, as it seemed to her, and in such a style of clownish buffoonery 
that she felt disgusted. That, while his favorites would laugh, as that 
eeemed to please him, many of the best of his students looked upon his 
efforts in that direction with contempt. That, not controlling her own 
feelings at that moment, she said in a whisper, not addressing any one, 
1 Darned fool.' Some one interested to keep Dr. T. ' well posted ' over- 
heard her, and went and informed him." It is evident that Louise was not 
alone in her feelings of dissatisfaction at the -overbearing principles mani- 
fested in the government of that institution, and the tyranny, as she 
thought, it exercised towards certain students. 

I have before me some letters from intelligent students, associates of L., 
written to her while they were at home during vacation, from which I will 
make a few extracts. In one I find the following sentiments : " It is not 
enough that students obey every rule of the school, — that their recitation's 
are excellent, etc. ; but they must be completely subjected to his will. They 
must not question his actions ; not even express their opinion of his silly 
speeches. O Louise ! it makes my teeth grit to think I 've got to be under 
his thumb three terms longer. I won't bow down 'to the golden calf too 
much, not if twenty diplomas were at stake." In another I find the 
following : " Among other things about the government of the school, I 
despise the teachings and the teachers, — at least, some of them, — yet 
love the girls, and always shall be glad to hear from them. But as to 



32 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

Professor T. and Miss Case, I shall not attempt to express my contempt 
for them. Language would fail. When I think of their contemptible 
course to students I get wrathy, — for they endeavor to make every one a 
mere nothing, — also a bad character, — save themselves, whom they liken 
unto gods. I am glad you speak freely your opinions. This afternoon 1 
attended a prayer-meeting, but very different from yours at Kent's Hill. 
A holy feeling seemed to pervade all. Such mild, sweet expressions ! 
These are meetings one cares to attend voluntarily. N'o one questions my 
motives ! Many of those who were friends of the institution will not be so 
now." 

In a letter to me, of a later date, this same student says : " The govern- 
ment at Kent's Hill is different from that of any school I ever attended or 
visited. I understand, from several persons who have been teachers for 
years, that the government is as was practised years ago. It resembles an 
absolute monarchy, the president being the sovereign. What respect I had 
for Dr. Torsey vanished at the cruel treatment of your daughter. 
Every person to whom I have spoken of the unhappy occurrence considers 
the treatment unjust and inhuman, in not keeping it among the teachers, 
but spreading it immediately among the scholars. You have all our sym- 
pathy in your terrible loss. Even strangers shed tears for you. A 
professor in one of our schools told me he did not believe there was such 
an account on record. Words fail to tell you how I feel for you. But 
remember God has said, ' Vengeance is mine/ " 

Several other letters from students to L. are in the same tone, and 
express the same opinions as above. From facts and circumstances that 
have been shown, I leave the public to judge whether there had not 
existed, between L. and Dr. T., a prejudice, some years before, if not 
cherished up to the time she left. When I charged him with such prejudice 
at the faculty meeting, he did not deny it, but virtually admitted it by say- 
ing that "he and L. had 'made up' about a year before." Some of the 
students on the Hill knew that such prejudice existed, and one of them, 
who was there in May, 1866, said, not long since, " It was unfortunate, in 
this affair, for Dr. Torsey that it was known he was prejudiced." As to the 
" making up " of which he spoke, I can find no intimation of it in her 
writings, or anything she has ever told her friends. The history of the 
interview at Miss R.'s room, which I have quoted entire, appears under 
date of April 11, 1865, which was a little more than a year before the time 
Dr. T. made the statement just alluded to. As nothing else, in her letters 
or writings, appears, relative to any conversation they had with each other 
touching the matter of variance between them, this interview and lecture 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 33 

must, I think, be the " making up " referred to. I leave for the reader to 
say how far such insinuations, such opening of old wounds, such renewal 
of threats as were exhibited at this interview, could be understood to mean 
reconciliation of differences, dropping old prejudices, and " making up." 
It is evident from what she said and left in writing that she did not so 
understand it, but rather as a new attack, a fresh display of active 
hostility. 

I have given my readers a brief view of some of the occurrences that 
took place, — a few specimens of the treatment L. received, and the dispo- 
sition manifested towards her prior to the distressing events of May, 1866, 
in order that they may better understand the condition of things at that 
time, and the reason of my views and feelings. 

I will now pursue the sad rehearsal of what afterwards transpired. 

On the 23d day of May, at ten o'clock in the forenoon, Louise took the 
stage for East Readfield ; thence the cars to Lewiston. At twelve o'clock, 
the same night, my daughter, Chestina, and a young man, Mr. Chandler, 
arrived at my house, and told us the heart-rending story, — how and why 
L. left, as told them by Dr. T., Miss Case, and Mrs. Daggett. Miss Case 
and Mrs. Daggett, the "matron," or steward's wife, were the two persons 
who went into the first investigation ; Mr. Daggett being called in to assist 
at a later period in the affair. After examination, all was reported to Dr. 
T. But it is reasonable to presume, he directed the whole movement ; or, 
at least, that he did know, or ought to have known, all about it. Now, as 
to the result of that investigation, what was the report which these pro- 
fessed lovers of truth, mercy, and Christianity made such haste to publish 
to the students, to the whole school and communitj^, against one they had 
known so long ? against one they had never suspected before, and whose 
character hitherto had been irreproachable, and stood as high and fair as 
their own ? What was this report against one who had made a profession 
of religion, — a sister in Christ, or at least a sister in the common family 
of mankind? Why were what they discovered as faults or misdeeds 
exaggerated and spread, as it were, broadcast over the Hill, in less than 
twentjr-four hours after the discovery, and she denied the least mercy or 
forbearance, or the most flimsy mantle of charity? 

Chestina said to me : " They say Louise had her trunk and drawers full 
of marked and unmarked clothing, not her own." Mr. Chandler,' the 
student who came home with her, said, " That is the report on the Hill ; 
also, that she had taken five dollars, and had confessed it." " It was the 
general belief on the Hill," he added, " that she was deranged." He also 
expressed his fears for her safety. Before I close, I will give the reader 
3 



34 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

some more means of judging whether or not this report was fully true ; 
but, whether true or false, what was the necessity of this haste, and what 
was the disposition and feeling manifested' in making it public property so 
soon? 

On receiving notice of these reports, and that L. had so suddenly left 
the Hill, in her every-day clothing, — not taking her trunk with her, or any 
clothes^ except what she wore ; and that she had removed from her person 
her class ring and all other valuable things, — we felt terribly alarmed as 
to her fate. Mrs. Greene and I both expressed our fears, and said that 
the chance was more than even, that she would be dead before I could 
reach Lewiston. I made all haste to proceed there ; and soon Chestina 
and I were ready to start. She, poor girl, all in tears, solicited the privi- 
lege of accompanying me on this sad and afflicting occasion, and sharing 
with me the grief and anxiety of this undertaking. She had come by team 
from Kent's Hill to her home, a distance of twenty-five miles, after six o'clock 
in the evening, and had slept none that night. We arrived at Lewiston, 
by team, a distance of thirty-five miles, before ten o'clock next morning. 
There I made diligent search and extraordinary exertions to find or trace 
my lost daughter, being assisted very kindly by the city marshal of Lewis- 
ton, who promptly sent his deputy with his team ; who drove hurriedly 
from one public place to another, to endeavor, if possible, to get some trace 
of her. Being unsuccessful in Lewiston, we passed over to the Elm House 
in Auburn, where we found she had been the day before ; and where she 
had there engaged a private room for two hours, which she occupied alone 
for about four hours. She said nothing to any one, asked for nothing, and 
kept her face closely veiled when she u jae in, while coming clown from her 
room, and when she went out. She stopped about ten minutes in the 
parlor ; sitting down, and looking out of the window, keeping her face 
veiled. The lady of the house, who came into the parlor about the same 
time, noticed that she had been weeping, that her eyes were red, and that 
she appeared to be in great trouble. Not a word was spoken by either, 
and L. soon went slowly out ; and was last seen going towards the Lewis- 
ton bridge, a little after four o'clock p. m. [My informant thinks about 
twenty minutes past four.] No persons have ever fully satisfied me that 
they saw her afterwards. As there were' two letters written by her, 
evidently commenced in the cars while coming from Readfield, — one to her 
Sister Chestina, the other to her class, — I have no doubt that they were 
finished in that private room at the Elm House. Finding she could not 
write intelligibly in the cars, no doubt she sought this private room in 
which to write out her last communication to earthly friends. These 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 35 

letters were postmarked, " Lewiston, May 24th," as they would have been 
if put in on the 23d. They would bear the date they left the office. Be- 
lieving she did go to that office on Lisbon Street, I thought, if she had not 
left in the cars, it was very likely she was drowned in the canal or river 
below that office. When the next trains left, both that day and the next, 
I stationed Chestina at one depot, while I went to Lewiston depot, and 
rode over to Auburn at every train, to see if L. took auy train from thence. 
Not finding any further satisfactory trace of her, after riding and walking 
in all directions, we started out to Sabattisville factory, making diligent 
inquiry all the way to Webster, Wales, Monmouth, and Winthrop, arriving 
at Kent's Hill on Saturday afternoon, May 25th. We went thither to see 
if any information respecting L. had reached the Hill ; and also for the 
purpose of getting C.'s trunk of clothing, as she had no change of raiment, 
all having been left there. We there found the two letters to which I have 
alluded. As much has been said about these letters, both in private and 
in public, and as many have manifested a desire to know the exact and 
whole contents of her class letter, I will now lay before the public an exact 
transcript of that letter, word for word, and letter for letter. 

LETTER TO HER CLASS. 

" At a Way Station, in the cars. 

"For the Class. — Schoolmates, — Once my own darlings (for I 
have no right to claim you now), I would rather die by slow torture than 
write j'ou this letter. But I feel it a duty. Who wrongs himself, wrongs 
his friends. God forgive me ! but I believe there is no soul on earth that 
stands nearer the gates of utter despair than mine does at this moment. I 
have always said, ' A man who will steal will lie, will do anything bad.' 

" Perhaps you will feel so ; but, oh ! do hear my story. Do not believe 
that through all these past years spent with you I have been acting a lie. 
As I live, I never touched a cent of money that was not my own, except 
this once. They tried to make me account for all the little things that 
have been missed through the term ; but I could not. I have not had 
them. A skeleton kej*, given me years ago, I had, that looked as though 
I might have used it wrongfully. God knows my heart! I never dij. 
One other thing I did, — I have been in the habit of doing. When I came 
to the college I brought many unmarked clothes, some of them new ones. 
When I missed things from the wash, I took others (unmarked ones) from 
the table, and used them. They put this with that, and altogether it did 
look bad. But if my own garments had not come by the close of the term, 



36 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

I should have left these where I got them, — in the wash. Now you know 
all. My distress is bitter enough ; but the shame that I bring upon you, 

— upon hqme friends, — I cannot express it. O my darlings! my dar- 
lings ! I thought the parting would be hard enough two weeks from now ; 
but this — I cannot even call you mine now ! The greatest favor I can 
ask is, drop me from your remembrance, and some time — you cannot do it 
now, I know ; but do, won't you, some time forgive me? Forgive me ; for- 
get me ; pray do ! I ask it in the name of all who have sinned and suffered, 

— in the name of my own bitter anguish, — in the name of all that I have 
been, or hoped to be, to you and with you. I do not know what tempted 
me. I went out to Miss Church's room one evening, without any such 
thought in my heart. She was gone. Her table-drawer was open ; her 
porte-monnaie, open too. Some satan, hidden in my heart, said, Take it ; and 
before I could think, I stood again in 27. When it was done, I would fain 
have replaced it ; but could not without discovery. The only thing I have 
to be glad of is, that I did not deny when asked. Everything that was 
asked me I told the truth about, as near as I could in my distracted state 
of mind. This storm has only been gathering since yesterday. I tried to 
read my Bible last night, but could not. I don't believe I shall ever pray 
again, except to say, Father, forgive me. And He will not hear. How, 
then, can I expect your pardon ! If I could have had an opportunity to 
retrieve the past at the Hill, — if this thing had not been made public prop 
erty and common talk, — maybe there might have been a future for me , 
but now — I think maybe I am not exactly as I used to be while I write 
this ; for my head whirls, and I cannot seem to think, — to say what I am 
trying to say. Did you love me any? Do you love me any now? It 
seems as though my heart must have some assurance of this, or it will 
burst ; and yet I know it cannot be. I could not go to see you this morn- 
ing ; I did not dare ; and yet I could have died for one friendly hand-grasp, 
and thought it happiness to die. Will some of you call Mary Chapman 
into your room, and read her this? that is, if you think best. What I 
write here I put into your hands. I am not capable of saying what should 
be done with it. Decide for me. Act as you would have others do, if it 
were possible for you to be in this place. I can hear even now the thousand 
buzzing rumors flying over the Hill. O my God ! what am I that I should 
have been left to do this thing? Dear girls, it may seem presumptuous in 
me now to ask a favor ; but if you only could find it in your hearts to be 
kind to my sister, — my poor, poor sister, Ches. ; — oh 1 if I could only pre- 
vent her from being punished for my sins, I would bear my own bitterness 
alone. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 37 

" I do not know what will become of me. If I get home, do not do anything 
with this letter; if not, will you please send it to my mother before 
term closes. O mother ! my mother ! If it were your mother, girls, 
what should you say ? what would you do ? 

"Mr. Schwagerl said to me this morning, one sentence, ' Remember 
your Saviour/ I have been saying it over all the way here. I thank him 
for saying that alwa^ys. Mary Chapman, you tell him so ; but I don't 
know. The Saviour is an iron door, I think, to me, — shut, bolted. I'. 
never realized before that my life was drifting into this downward current. 
I cannot think it was. I came to the top of a great precipice, did I not? 
and because I had been trying to walk alone on Kent's Hill, I fell. "Well 
if it had destroyed life with character ; but it did not. 

"I keep writing and writing because I can't say the last word ; but I 
must. 

" I have read this over, or tried to, and it is not what I would say. I 
cannot write more ; I cannot write again. I cannot even ask you to write 
to me. What could you say? I don't want you to. 

"My darlings! my darlings! this good-by is a thousand times more 
bitter than was the laying away of my dead. 

" Addies, Lydias, Sarahs, Mary, and Abby, — how good your names 

look to me ! You have all been good to me. 

" Good-by. 

" Louise." 

My reader will pause, and reflect. If my daughter had been so wicked 
a girl as some would have you believe, — had been a thief, one who had by 
deception worked herself out of such scrapes, — would she have so frankly 
told the truth, when a denial might have saved her? Would she have said 
in that class letter, — would she, when she saw her disgrace and fall in the 
wretched light she did, have said : " The only thing I have to be glad of 
is, that I did not deny when asked " — and further said, " I had been 
trying to walk alone on Kent's Hill ; I fell. Well if it had destroyed life 
with character ; but it did not " ? — preferring death to the disgrace of this 
small act of taking five dollars. She writes to her sister that this is the 
only thing that she feels herself guilty of. She further sa3^s : "If I could 
have had an opportunity to retrieve the past at the Hill. If this thing 
had not been made public propertj^, and common talk, maybe there might 
have been a future for me ; but now," — you see her feeling when she says 
" but now," — " when T. tells me that the school know of it, when it is so 
public, and I have no chance to retrieve the past at the Hill, death is 



38 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

craved." Do you believe she thought they had done right to thus early 
publish her confession to the school, and make it " public property, and 
common tajk," and then advise her to leave in disgrace, and thus prevent the 
possible chance of her doing one act, or having one day to try to retrieve the 
past at the Hill? Poor child ! She knew of his prejudice, and their dispo- 
sition to make the matter look bad, on the Hill, and also to disgrace 
her, else they would have kept her confession private ; she knew they 
could have done so. 

I do not believe that I shall ever be able while I live to read this letter 
without shedding tears. And, when I think how that committee of stu- 
dents did so unjustly and unfeelingly quote damaging sentences from this 
letter, to injure the character of the dead, and wound the feelings of the 
living, without giving any explanations therein contained, with evident 
intent to natter those who were able to defend themselves, without a word in 
her favor, or a single syllable of regret for the death of an old student, — is 
more than I can tell, or they will ever be able to satisfactorily explain to 
me, if selfish motives were not the cause. And if any one will compare 
the evidence here produced, leaving out all arguments, they will see how 
little of what they say is a truthful account of this sad affair is left. 

One thing further I believe I ought to say, to show her love for, and 
determination to speak the truth, let the consequences be what they may. 
The reader will recollect, that, in her recorded account of TVs lecture to 
her, April 11, 1865, in answer to his charge, " that there would be a 
great hubbub in the chapel, and she would be found looking in at the 
door," she says, " When I am suspected, you only have to ask, to know 
how far I am concerned. I never have lied myself out of a scrape, yet." 
And here you see the truth of that statement verified, when asked about 
the money, although her character, her aZZ, was at stake. She, knowing 
his threat, " if she did anything that looked like a violation of any rule, 
she could expect but little forbearance from the faculty," with her great 
fear that something would happen, for which Dr. T. would refuse to let 
her graduate ; he, as she believed him to be, her enemy, and a revengeful 
one, " or he would not be watching me continually, and finding fault for 
such little things" (as she told her parent, when speaking of her fear that 
she should never graduate) ; yet, with all this, and her great desire to 
succeed at the exhibition, the crowning point of her ambition, it does not 
deter her in this awful trial from telling the truth, and not attempting to 
lie herself out of this trouble, although disgrace and death was the result. 
As she savs in her class letter, " Everything that was asked me I told 
the truth about, as near as I could in my distracted state of mind." 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 39 



HER LETTER TO CHESTINA. 

" In the cars, Wednesday, A. M. 

" My much loved but deeply wronged Sister, — In leaving yon, as I 
have, I am sensible that there is in store for you mortification and a share 
of my disgrace. 

"Dr. Torsey informed me this morning that I had better leave to-day ; 
i not expulsion,' he said, \ we won't call it that, but I advise you to go 
home.' Practically, it amounts to the same thing, however. How I feel, 
God only knows ; you never can ; and my bitterest agony is for the dear 
ones at home, on whom must fall some share in this disgrace. Satan, or 
some evil spirit, must have led me into this. If I know myself, it was not 
the true, real Louise Greene, that did this. She was trying to live an 
honest, womanly life ; or, if she was, indeed, drifting into disgrace, 
she never realized it. I can feel myself guilty of but one crime, — the 
taking of five dollars from Miss Church. No other was alleged against 
me, but the having of those unmarked articles of clothing ; and, as I live, 
I had no intention of stealing them. For every article I took, I had lost one 
in the wash, and put these on in their stead, expecting, before the term 
was done, to find my own. There was, in some sort, a necessity for this ; 
for instance : — I came to the college with three or four good, whole drawers, 
— two pairs of which were new ones, — and to-day, as I ride away, I have 
none. They were lost in the wash because unmarked. Was it so strange that 
I should put on others, also unmarked, in their stead ? I tell you this, that you 
may know what I have done, and why I did it. That five dollars is a mystery 
to me. I went on an errand into Miss Church's room ; in her stand drawer 
laid a partly open porte-monnaie. What possessed me to take the money I 
do not know ; but I took it out. The moment they asked me about it I con- 
fessed it. You know the skeleton key I have long had. That told against 
me ; but, after all, I do not think they believed I opened rooms with it, for 
the purpose of taking out things. I certainly never did. Now you know the 
whole story. It is probably travelling the Hill at this moment with a thou- 
sand exaggerations. God pity me ! I never thought to come to this. Do 
not tell any one anything in this. It will be useless to try to stem the tide ; 
bend beneath it, or it will break you down. Say nothing of excuse or 
palliation. In my heart I feel that you will not say aught of •condemnation. 
It is a great deal to ask ; perhaps you cannot do it now ; but some time will 
you not try to forgive me ? Live down all this. It is no real disgrace to 
you, though it may seem so. Make friends with the teachers, and with the 



40 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

people of God ; they will strengthen you. Here I think was my fault ; 
I tried to stand on the Hill alone, and I fell. 

" Louise." 

The reader will notice that near the close of this letter Louise gives her 
sister this advice : " It will be useless to try to stem the tide " (to try to 
stem all this prejudice of Dr. Torsey's, — the faculty's whole influence, 
which is all-powerful on Kent's Hill, — she doubtless meant). " Bend be- 
neath or it will break you down. Say nothing of excuse or palliation ; " 
do not attempt to excuse or defend me ; for if you do that, by inference if 
not by your arguments, you will blame the faculty, and their influence will 
be brought to bear on you, and " it will break you down." It will operate 
against you in a thousand ways, to injure, and finally (if you persist to 
defend me), it will destroy you. This is seen, and may properly be in- 
ferred, from this short and hasty advice to her sister: " Say nothing of 
excuse or palliation." She had tried to walk alone, tried to maintain her 
right to think and act for herself ; but she had found that by so doing she 
had incurred their displeasure ; that her determination so to do, regardless 
of all his manoeuvring and threats, increased his prejudice, and in many 
ways injured her. She believed Torsey had become an enemy to her. 
Being so, he had injured her feelings, and troubled her in many ways (not 
easily explained), although she was right, and ought to have had her right 
of opinion to act unmolested. Yet she saw that policy^ dictated a different 
course; and her trying to "stand alone" on her rights was bad for her, 
and was the cause which brought down their displeasure " and little for- 
bearance " with her. Then she advises Chestina to avoid that, and make 
friends with the teachers, — her (Louise's) enemies, their teachers, — and 
thus try to make "your path up the hill of science smooth as a gravelled 
walk." "Make friends with the teachers, and with the people of God; 
they will strengthen you." She does not say she believed her teachers — 
her accusers and judges — to be such people. She did not mean to say 
that of Dr. T., I do not believe. " Here I think was my fault. I tried to 
stand on the Hill alone, and I fell." 

These letters were heart-rending to me and my distressed family ; and it 
did ceem to me that they were enough to draw tears from the eyes of any 
whose heart was not callous to feelings of sympathy and sensibility, and 
ought to disarm forever that unforgiving spirit that never seems to realize 
that " to err is human." 

They are a frmk and full confession ; and by their tone, and succeeding 
occurrences, it is evident they were intended as her last communication 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 41 

with friends. Her friends believe every word of them was true. The 
public will judge for themselves whether they were true or false, after read- 
ing them carefully,' together with such attendant facts and circumstances 
as will hereafter be produced ; and will also judge whether she did or not 
take too much blame on herself, and feel too keenly this, her first offence, 
the cause of which she could not comprehend. 

As some have referred to these letters to exonerate certain persons in 
high position from censure, by quoting her confession of guilt, without 
expressing a word of doubt of her truthfulness on these points, I submit 
to the reader whether the whole contents of these letters are not equally 
entitled to credit, as much so as such parts as the designing may select 
and endorse ; and whether those who so quote her confession ought not, in 
fairness, to give her the benefit of her explanation, and be estopped from 
denying the truth of such statements as are in her favor. 

While at the Hill, picking up Chestina's things, on the 25th of May, 
Miss Case sought me, and in her cold, icy manner commenced to console 
me in nry sad and severe affliction. Knowing that Louise disliked her, for 
what I believed were good reasons, and believing she was prejudiced against 
L., I thought she might have assisted, under such feelings, in injuring my 
child, and in producing that wretched state of mind in which she was, and 
which finally destroyed her. I asked her if Dr. Torsey talked hard to L. 
She said she did not know what Dr. T. said to her. I then squarely asked 
her this question : " Did you talk harshly to her?" She said, " I tried to 
impress upon her the enormify of the crime. ,, 

She continued, and said that " she was surprised that L. did not feel 
worse, and break down, as she expected her to do ; " said " L. shed no 
tears, until they opened a little fancy trunk ; that she then wept." This 
is the substance of what was said in that conversation ; and " I tried to 
impress upon her the enormity of the crime," was the exact language used 
by that cold and unfeeling teacher. Never can I forget, while life lasts, 
the harsh and cruel course she said she took with nry poor bewildered and. 
distracted girl. That sentence, " I tried to impress," etc., grates upon my 
ear in memory, when I think of her we loved so well ; and I know I am not 
mistaken in the words and exact language used on that occasion. She, in 
my opinion, has a large share of accountability, before God and man, for 
the death of our child. A more cool, unfeeling person I never saw. 

This little fancy trunk alluded to would hold only about a quart, and 
was made and given her by her dearly loved cousin, who died at my house 
a few years before, — one of the dead alluded to in her letter, where she 
speaks of "the laying away of my dead." In this little trunk she kept 



42 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

some small mementos of him, and no one was accustomed to open it but 
herself. This little " keepsake," it seems, could not be exempt from the 
penetrating search which was made, while they were trying, as she says, 
" to make her account for all the little things that had been missed through 
the term." 

After dark, Saturday evening, May 25th, Chestina and I started for home, 
and did not arrive there till daylight on Sunday morning. I found my wife 
and children in a wretched, distressed condition ; for we had neither written, 
nor brought home any tidings of the dear lost one. Our hearts were nearly 
broken, being weighed down under the burden of our grief and disappoint- 
ment. 

Although not sleeping any that night, in five hours my almost distracted 
wife and myself were on our way to Lewiston again. My wife had neither 
eaten nor drank anything while I had been absent. She looked the picture 
of anguish and despair. "You do not look as though you were able to 
go," I said. " I cannot stay at home," she replied. '"I cannot stand this 
awful suspense. I must go." We did go, in a severe and drenching storm 
of rain. We rode about in Auburn, Lewiston, and Webster ; then walked 
about the river, canals, and streets of Lewiston, inquiring as we went for 
some trace of our lost child. God only knows our sad and sorrowful 
walks, our anxiety, our suspense and excitement, until my poor wife was 
nearly exhausted. I could not prevail on her to retire from the search, 
and rest, and leave me to continue it without her. She could eat nor sleep 
but little in such a state of mental anguish* and excitement. When all 
hope of ever finding our daughter had nearly vanished, we started again 
towards Kent's Hill, to get her trunk, see her diary, and to see if she had 
not written something and left in her trunk, or clothing, whereby we might 
get some more light in the matter. We arrived on the Hill at eleven 
o'clock in the evening, as tired and distressed sufferers, perhaps, as ever 
visited that Hill. The next morning I called at Dr. Torsey's, and told his 
wife that Mrs. Greene was on the Hill, and we wanted Dr. T., Miss Case, 
Mr. Daggett and wife, and as many of the faculty as he chose, to meet us 
at as early an hour as possible. He called the whole faculty together at 
his house, and informed us of the place of meeting. We repaired to his 
sitting-room, and found there present, Dr. Torsey, Professors Robinson, 
Morse, and Harriman, Miss Robinson, teacher in painting and drawing, 
Miss Grover, teacher of music, and Miss Case, the preceptress. 

I will now state the substance of a portion of the conversation that trans- 
pired at that meeting. I may not give the precise language, verbatim, in all 
cases, but will give the ideas correctly. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 43 

I asked Dr. T. why he had not sent for us or let us know about the 
trouble before L. left. He said " he did not know she was going away." 
I asked him about what she had done. He said* 1 ' he knew nothing about 
the clothing ; " but he and Professor Robinson both said something about 
her having a skeleton key. Dr. T. also told us about her taking the five 
dollars in-mone3 r . I asked him " why he had not taken care of her, and 
sent for us ? " He said " she was of age, and he had no authority to do so, or 
right to control her." (It brought to my mind a passage I have seen in a 
Book of ancient date : " Am I my brother's keeper ? ") I said : " You have 
controlled her by your petty rules for five years. She has been of age for 
a year past. You could control her while you chose, but when trouble 
came upon her, you abandoned her." 

Having convincing evidence, in my own mind, that Dr. T. was strongly 
prejudiced against L., and believing that thence an unfavorable influence 
had extended to other members of the faculty in that direction, I charged 
him with being prejudiced against her, which he did not deny, but virtually 
admitted it by saying he and L. had made up about a year ago. I said : 
" Being prejudiced, you could, perhaps, see little things in her, and call her 
to account, and annoy her much by your petty rules and your construction 
of them to her, while you would not notice them in a favorite." In the 
course of the interview Dr. Torsey said that " L. was all broke down, and 
wept, and that he himself shed tears ; that she said she could not go home, 
— could not see us, and did not think we would receive her." I then said : 
" Where, in the name of Heaven, did you think my poor child would go, if 
she could not go home ? " Mrs. Greene said : " Why did you not send her 
to one of your rooms in your house, to your wife, and let her comfort her ? " 
He replied that she was under censure, and it would not be proper to send 
her to his wife. (We understood him to mean that it would disgrace Mrs. 
T.) Then continued Mrs. Greene : " I had rather you would have arrested 
her as a thief, if it was necessary to do so, in order to keep her, until we 
could have been sent for." " You would have had no need of that," I ad-* 
ded ; " if you had only told her she must take a private room with C, and 
you would look the matter over, and see what was best to be done, she 
would have clone so ; and you might then have sent for us before you dis- 
closed to her your intentions." " I told her," said Dr. T., " if she went to 
Lewiston, she must make arrangements with Chestina about going." 
" Then you did know," said Mrs. G., " that she was going away" He said 
that " L. said she sometimes went home by the way of Lewiston, or that 
she would go to Lewiston and write home, or send for us to meet her 
there." " You must have known her sensitive nature," said Mrs. G., " and 



44 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

the effect so great a disappointment must have upon her. You are an am- 
bitious man, and you would not like to have your character, standing, and 
high hopes blasted for so small a matter as this five dollars ; no, not for 
five thousand dollars. Do you not think our child's hopes and ambi- 
tion were not as great as yours ? You could not have had her here these 
past five years and not understand her nature. If you were an ignorant 
man I could forgive you ; but now I cannot forgive you. She had not 
much money, no trunk nor clothing with her, and she will be looked upon 
with suspicion at every turn. I do not believe she would be taken in any- 
where ; and as she left her jewelry and best clothing, when she went away, 
I think she is dead." As Mrs. G. made these remarks she looked the pic- 
ture of utter despair; Dr. T. coolly replied : "Mrs. Greene, I think you 
need have no such fears." Knowing what an old dress L. had worn away, 
Mrs. G. said : " In two weeks she will be in rags. Where can she be?" 
" Well," said he, " I think she has gone into some country town. Your 
daughter in rags, with her open and frank countenance, her lady-like man- 
ners, would make friends anywhere ; anybody would take her in." " Then 
she must find different people than you were here," replied Mrs. G. " You 
thought it would disgrace your wife to take her in for a few hours, until 
you could send for us." He made no reply. If he had not meant the mat- 
ter as we understood it, I think he would have explained. 

Yes ; this (heartless, shall I say?) man could tell my poor and almost 
distracted wife, in such an hour, and under such circumstances, that stran- 
gers would take her child in, while he, who had known her so long and 
well, and who, we had a right to expect, would be her guardian and protector, 
at that "safe and pleasant home" promised her, would not take her into 
his house till we had been notified of the difficulty, which would have re- 
quired but a few hours,—- could not keep her a few hours, it seems, until 
he could return her to the keeping of the safe hands from which he received 
her. 

As Mrs. Greene was coming down on him rather closely in questions and 
argument, in order to nonplus her, as it seemed to us, and break her ar- 
gument and close questionings, he suddenly said : " You have lost a child 
lately ? " Mrs. G. was sitting directly facing him, clad in deep mourning, 
and he knew all about our losing our youngest child, seven years old, 
only a few months before, as our two girls were sent for, who were at his 
school, to go home to the funeral ; and he must have known, also, that Mrs. 
G. took the death of this child extremely hard, and that fears were enter- 
tained that her mental powers would give way under the shock. Hence, 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 45 

probably, this attempt to wound her feelings, and divert her from the im- 
mediate question, and stop her argument or confuse her, by calling up a 
subject on which her mind had been severely exercised. Once, in the course 
of the conversation, he stamped upon the floor, thus trying to stop us and 
stamp us down in that waj 7- . He seemed very anxious to know what we 
were going to say outside about this affair. Now, kind readers, judge } r e : 
If he would thus try his arbitrary authority on and over us, what would he 
do and say to our child, if she tried to defend her case ? 

In the course of the conversation he said : "I told her I would hold her 
diploma, and if she would live a good and honest life for six months or a 
year, she could then write me, and I would send it to her." Was it true, 
then, that he did not know she was going away? If so, why did he talk 
about her writing, and his sending her diploma ? She did not feel that she 
could go home, for she had told him so. Well might I ask him " where, in 
the name of Heaven, he expected her to go?" Poor child! After five 
long, tedious years with books and tutors, studying late and early, until her 
eyes nearly failed her, enduring those hard rides, over rough roads, twenty- 
five miles, six times every year, in the spring, fall, and winter, and often, 
too, in cold storms of rain and snow ; after putting forth all the energies of 
her mind to accomplish her studies, stand well in her class, and reach the 
goal of her ambition, until her physical and mental powers were becoming 
exhausted by the heavy tax upon them, and knowing how much her parents 
and friends doted on her, and how anxious they were for her success, — if 
she could not graduate, which was the crowning point on which her heart 
was set, but must be sent awa} r , disappointed, heart-broken, and disgraced, 
— to her distracted mind there was ho future for her, and death seemed 
preferable. 

It has been asserted by some, who feel interested to exonerate from 
blame those who have control of that institution, or are engaged in 
its management, and the public are asked to believe, that Louise " left the 
school of her own accord ; " that " no intimation was given her that she must 
leave, and could not graduate ; " and that those under whose charge and 
care she had been placed, did not know or mistrust that she was not in her 
right mind, or perfectly sane, when she left. 

As these propositions are debatable, and, as I believe sincerely, each 
and every one of them incorrect and untrue, I will endeavor to show that 
they are controverted by the tongue and pen of the party most interested 
to substantiate their truth, and, also, by attendant circumstances. 

In a letter to me, dated at Kent's Hill, May 23, 1866, — being the same 
day L. left, — Dr. T. says : " She left of her own accord, without my knowl- 



46 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

edge." In the conversation to which I have alluded, he said that " L. promised 
him she would go home, or go to Lewiston and send for me to meet her 
there." As Mrs. Greene had before said that L. was always a truthful girl 
from her childhood, he rather sarcastically said, " If she promised, should 
I not have believed her ? " 

Prof. Robinson says, in a letter dated Nov. 12, 1866 : " No intimation 
was given her that she must leave the school ; that she could not graduate. 
Mr. Torsey expressly said to her that if she left, it would not be on account 
of any action of the faculty, but of her own choice. She, at last, 
promised Mr. Torsey that she would go home. Mr. T. proposed to procure 
a carriage for her ; but she said she sometimes went by way of Lewiston, 
and her father would meet her there ; but whichever way she went she 
would let her sister make all the necessary arrangements. As soon as Mr. 
T. learned that she had gone, contrary to her promise, he immediately sent 
a student with the sister to Mr. Greene, to inform him of the circumstances 
and to urge him to meet L. in Lewiston." 

Before closing his letter, he says, " Such, briefly, are the facts." As no one 
was present but Dr. T. and my daughter, at this last interview, when it was 
said this promise was made, Prof. Robinson must be dependent on Dr. T. 
for all the knowledge he possessed of these " facts," which he announces 
with such positive and bold assurance. Was this statement, that " she 
promised she would go home," or that she would "go to Lewiston and 
send for her father," true ? Was it a fact that no intimation was given her 
that she must leave ? and that her leaving was a matter of her own choice ? 
As no eye nor ear but God's witnessed this last interview between Dr. T. 
and my daughter, I will let their pens answer these questions. In a letter 
to me, dated May 27, 1866, Dr. T. says : " I had a long conversation with 
her the morning she left, and urged upon her two things : First, that she 
go to Jesus with the whole matter, etc. Second, that she go at once to her 
father and mother, telling them all." He does not say that he gave her any 
intimation that he would overlook or forgive, or that he would do the least 
thing to help her in her trouble. He further says: "At our parting she 
gave me some assurance that she would do both these things." Again he 
says : " She named going by the way of Lewiston, or writing you to meet 
her there ; but did not insist upon it, any further than merely mentioning 
it." From these statements does the reader discover anything like a 
promise to do any of these things, as asserted by Prof. R. ? Dr. T. also 
says, in this same letter : " I wished her to allow me to get a team, and 
that she and Chestina should go, at once, home" After this he speaks of 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 47 

her " finally agreeing, as he understood it, to make no arrangements herse 7 /, 
but allow Chestina to make them." 

In her last letter to her sister, written on that fatal day, Louise says : 
" Dr. Torscy informed me this morning that I had better leave to-day. 
' Not expulsion,' he said, c we won't call it that, but I advise you to go home.' 
Practically, it amounts to the same thing, however." Practically, she thought 
it amounted to the same thing as expulsion, so she said ; and do not my read- 
ers think the same ? Dr. T. wished her to " go at once home," he " urged upon 
her that she go at once to her parents ; " he " advised her to go home ; " these 
are his own words written to me. And she had been too long under his 
charge to misunderstand what his wishing, urging, and advising practically 
amounted to. Yet, Dr. T. says, " she left of her own accord, and without 
his knowledge ;" and Prof. Robinson, that " no intimation was given her 
that she must leave," and that her leaving was a matter of her " own 
choice." This play on words to disguise real facts, to evade the force 
of what, in substance, is the truth ; this attempt to hide the true intent, 
designs, and purposes of actions, by using certain words and forms of 
expression, may succeed in carrying conviction to the minds of some, but, 
I apprehend, it will not avail before an intelligent public. It matters not 
with me what particular words were used, or things said, to give my 
daughter to understand what the real intentions were respecting her. Per- 
haps she was not told in so many words that she must leave the school. She 
says she was informed that she " had better leave." She does not say she was 
expelled. Dr. T. would not call it that ; but she was advised to go liome. 
How could he graduate after leaving the school, as advised and urged to 
do ? Dr. T. has a great faculty to say or write in such a way that he can 
put any construction he chooses to the same. He well understands the 
art of intrigue and double-dealing. 

w ' If I could have had an opportunity to retrieve the past at the Hill," etc., 
she says, in her class letter, " maybe there might have been a future for 
me." When Dr. Torsey asked her, in that last conversation, what she 
proposed to do, she replied : " I want this kept from the school, and stay 
and graduate." 

In view of the testimon} 7 here adduced, I leave the intelligent reader to 
judge whether it is a "fact," that she left the Hill without the "knowl- 
edge," instigation, " action," or intimation of any of the faculty. " I did 
not tell Louise she could not graduate," says Dr. T. in a letter to me, 
dated Oct. 29, 186G. " I told her the trustees voted the diplomas, and I 
would be her friend in the matter." In this same letter he also says : " I 
spoke only of any time of her leaving when she had decided to go home 



48 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

that clay." If this were so, why did he tell us in the faculty meeting that 
she said she could not go home Y that she could not see or meet us ? And 
why does he say she promised to go to Lewiston, and send for me to meet 
her there? What means the following, from his letter, May 27, 18G6? 
" I wished her to allow me to get a team, and that she and Chestina 
should go at once home. She thought neither you nor her mother would 
receive her." This statement does not appear to carry the idea that she 
had decided to go home that day ; but the reverse might be inferred, 
namely, that she could not make up her mind to go home and meet her 
friends then. Is it at all probable that she sought to leave the institution 
without graduating, and was seeking, voluntarily, to leave it in disgrace? 
Dr. T. stated, on the day L. left, that she told him that morning, "If she 
could not graduate there was no future for her." And when asked what 
she proposed to do, she replied : " I want it kept from the school and stay 
and graduate." Will he now pretend that when he advised her to go home, 
he expected her to return in two weeks and graduate? If so, why was 
she " urged " and advised to go home? From anything that L. said or 
wrote, it does not appear — to me at least — that leaving the Hill was of 
her own seeking, or that she ever said she would go home. Why, her 
whole ambition, for those five long years of study, was to get through with all 
that was required of her, graduate, and obtain her diploma, and her whole 
soul and mind was bent on this achievement. Having accomplished this, 
it was her intention then to obtain a situation in some large institution as 
a teacher in painting, or some other department. 

In the " Boston Journal," a paper taken by the Adelphian Society, of 
which L. had frequently been Secretary and Treasurer (a student has writ- 
ten me, that all the funds entrusted to her care for a long time were faith- 
fully kept and properly expended by her as an officer of the society), 
appeared an advertisement for a teacher, at Hartford, Connecticut. 

L. had answered that advertisement a short time before she left ; and on 
the second day after she had gone from the Hill, a letter arrived to her 
address, dated at Hartford, Ct., May 24, 1866, requesting her to meet the 
Principal of that school, at Hallowell, Me., on the next Saturdajr, to make 
the necessary arrangements for her to go there in September following. 

This was her great desire, to get through her studies and obtain a situ- 
ation ; and, as soon as possible, to get situations for her sisters also, as 
music-teachers, etc. She had often told her mother, that as I had spent 
so much for her, she intended to repay it, or its equivalent, in doing much 
for the other girls, her younger sisters, — so that she and they might be 
of some use in the world. This letter was heart-rending to us. It was pain- 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 49 

ful to think that the long anticipated, and much desired opportunity was 
just ready to. be offered her, and she died without the knowledge of it, and 
that her opportunity to assist her four sisters, for which her ambition and 
anxious zeal aspired, was lost forever. 

It was one reason why we desired to give her a thorough education, that 
she might help her } T ounger sisters. 

To say that she did not desire to stay and graduate is advancing an 
inconsistent idea, at once at variance with reason, facts, circumstances, and 
good judgment. She had only two weeks longer to toil and strive, and 
the long-desired goal would be reached. It vanished in a moment, and to 
her mental vision her future became a blank forever. 

It was this bitter disappointment, in my judgment, that veiled the 
prospects of the future, distracted more completely her mind, severed her 
ties to earth, and destroyed her life. 

What scathing words were uttered in the enunciation of the consequence 
and penalty of this alleged misdemeanor, or what representations of the 
" enormity of her crime " were made to the frenzied brain, to increase 
delusive ideas, and give a false coloring to life's prospects, if any, God 
and the actors only know. 

On that fatal 23d day of May, she wrote a letter to her sister, and 
directed it to her, on Kent's Hill. She must well know, that, under the 
circumstances, Dr. T. would be very likely to see that letter the next day, 
and, if untrue, would be likely to detect and expose the falsehood. 

" Dr. Torsey informed me this morning," she says, " that I had better 
leave to-day ; ' not expulsion,' he said ; ' we won't call it that ; but I 
advise you to go home,' etc. 

" How I feel God only knows, you never can ; and my bitterest agony 
is for the dear ones at home." 

Did she not understand his language, when she says, " practically, it 
amounts to the same as expulsion " ? And did not Dr. T. understand the 
language as she did ? Did he not evidently mean she should so under- 
stand it? Had he said, "It is expulsion, but we will not call it that," 
would she have understood it differently from what she did? 

I have presented many circumstances, extracts from her writings, etc., 
to show that a prejudice had grown up against her, which appeared to 
manifest itself in a disposition to find fault with her for little things, and 
in threats of " little forbearance," etc., if she should be found guilty of 
any violation of rules. In view of this condition of things, as they 
evidently existed in her mind, whether the reader is so impressed or not, 
4 



50 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

what shadow of hope, or expectation of mercy or forbearance had she at 
his hand ? In her class-letter she says, — 

11 If I could have had an opportunity to retrieve the past at the Hill, — 
if this thing had not been made public property, and common talk, — maybe 
there might have been a future for me." 

Who prevented her having " an opportunity to retrieve the past at the 
Hill?" Who made this thing u public property " and " common talk " ? 

Dr. T. told her, in that conversation in the morning, that "the school 
knew it ; " which meant and implied, as I understood it, that the school 
generally knew about the whole matter. 

He told M. I. Reed, " that he said this to L. that morning she left ; " and 
Roscoe Smith told me, in the presence of others, that Dr. T. told him, " that 
in answer to her request to have the affair kept from the school, and she 
stay and graduate, he told her, ' The school knew it, or most of them.' " 

Prof. R., in the letter to which I have before alluded, says, " After as 
private an investigation as possible. Miss Greene acknowledged that she 
had taken several articles that did not belong to her," etc. 

This very private investigation was made on Tuesday, and on Wednes- 
day morning she was told by Dr. T. "that the school knew it;" and 
about this time, Miss Case told all her class all about it. 

It was not her confession that revealed the whole matter to the school; 
for this was not made to the whole school, which she was told knew it, but 
to Miss Case, her teacher, and Mr. and Mrs. Daggett, the steward and 
matron. Yet we are told, and it is published from Kent's Hill, that none 
of the faculty were responsible for these things being made public property, 
and common talk so soon. 

Mr. Daggett, under date of July 2, 1866, writes me as follows : — 

"Jonas Greene, Esq.: Dear Sir, — Your letter, inquiring who 
was present when Louise confessed she took $5, is received; and in 
answer I will say, Miss Case, Mrs. Daggett, and myself were present." 

These were the parties who made the investigation into the whole 
affair ; and Prof. R. says, " It was as private as possible." 

Three only knew her confession of taking the money, " the only crime 
she could feel herself guilty of," as she writes to her sister. 

It was a wilful misrepresentation, a lie, when he said, or any one says, 
" It could not have been kept from the school." Louise knew it could 
have been so kept ; and, when Torsey told her " the school knew it," she 
knew they did not mean to save her from disgrace ; they meant to enforce 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 51 

his threat, " that if she did anything that looked like a wilful violation 
of any rule," she could expect little forbearance from the faculty." 

This is a point I make against them, and that prejudice caused them so 
to act. This is what killed her, broke her heart, and sent her to destruc- 
tion. 

Her confession was made Tuesday afternoon, and early next morning, 
Dr. T. tells her, " The school knew it." Was it true that this matter had 
been published to the school of some two hundred students in so brief a 
time ? Or, was he seeking to take from her every prop, every possible ray 
of hope, that she could stay and graduate? Whatever might have been 
the motive or design, it looks very much like the consummation of the 
threat, that " if she did anything that looked like a wilful violation of 
rule, she could expect but little forbearance from the faculty." 

If it were true, that the school did know of the affair in so short a time, 
in whose power was it to have kept this knowledge from them ? Who was 
to blame .or responsible for making it " public property " and " common 
talk" so soon? 

It may be answered, that no one was to blame ; that no obligation rested 
on any one to keep the matter from the knowledge of the school, or from 
the public. Admit this to be so. Do the features of the case bear the 
impress of moral kindness and Christian forbearance ? When one who 
" had hitherto borne an irreproachable character " had for the first time 
been guilty of a wrong act, whether rationally conceived and sanely car- 
ried out, or otherwise, and who had frankly and promptly confessed the 
error, without equivocation or falsehood ; ought not her former good char- 
acter to plead effectually in stay of judgment, and postponement of sen- 
tence, till all the causes and circumstances in the case could have been 
investigated, and till she could have had the benefit of a father's counsel, 
and a mother's sympathy? 

Had my daughter been morally and realty guilty of the " mysterious " 
act of which she was accused, and a thousand times more, I appeal to the 
public to say, whether I ought not to have been notified before the deter- 
mination that she should not graduate was made known to her. 

" She made," ssljs Mr. Daggett, " an immediate and full confession as 
to the money, and returned it, not denying a word." Had she not reason 
to expect some mercy, some sympathy and forbearance, some friendly aid 
from those who should have been her protectors, to help her through this 
difficulty, and out of this her first offence ? Was her conduct much like a 
sly and guilty thief ? Without the least shadow or particle of evidence 
against her, on being asked about that five dollars, by Mr. Daggett, she 



52 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

immediately told him where it was, and said she would get it for him, and 
did so. There was no lying, no equivocation, not the slightest at- 
tempt in this affair, on her part, to evade the facts, as is almost invari- 
ably the case with thieves. 

She says to her sister, "The moment they asked me about it, I con- 
fessed it." In what may well be regarded as her last and dying words, she 
says to her class, "The only thing I have to be glad of is, that I did 
not deny when asked. Everything that was asked nfe I told the truth 
about, as near as I could in my distracted state of mind," 

The truth of these statements made by her is confirmed by Mr. D. in 
his testimony to me, and I have never yet heard that any attempt has been 
made to controvert them. Yet neither her former good character and 
standing, nor her frank confession and penitence, helped her on this occa- 
sion. Her confession became " public property" and " common talk " ere 
the earth had performed its daily revolution ; and, knowing the condition 
of things, and what had been said to her, it is no wonder that she said, only 
the next day after it was made, " It is probably travelling the Hill at this 
moment, with a thousand exaggerations ;" or that she said, " I can hear, 
even now, the thousand buzzing rumors flying over the Hill." She was 
" advised to leave that day ; " thus being informed, satisfactorily to her 
mind, that she could not graduate. 

Chestina, after L. had left, asljed Dr. T. "if she could not have re- 
mained and graduated ? " 

" Well, no," he said ; " it would not have been best for her to have gone 
on the stage ; she would be pointed out as the girl that stole." Thus 
intimating that everybody would know of her misdeed and her confession ; 
and expressing himself, as to manner and time, as though the exhibition 
with her had transpired at the time the decision was made in her case, and 
she was made acquainted with it, and " informed she had better leave that 
day." " It would not have been best," etc., he says ; evidently referring 
to the time when this point was settled with her, and she was in prospect 
excluded from the stage. 

In this condition of my lone child, separated from counsel and friends, 
what did he expect of her, and what did he intend respecting her? Did he 
intend to turn her out into the wide world, ashamed, disheartened, dis- 
graced, and distracted, without monej^ and without friends, a lone wandeer 
to the solitude of the forest and the leafy couch of death ? If not, — and 
God knows I wish not to judge too severely, — and a fatal mistake was 
unwittingly made, why was not an acknowledgment of the error as frankly 



THE CROWN TYOX BUT NOT WORN. 53 

•made as was a confession and acknowledgment by my lost child? And 
would not such acknowledgment of mistake appear nobler and more Chris- 
tianlike than seeking to evade censure by attempting to hide behind the 
invited, self-sought, self-coined and flattered resolutions or public expres- 
sions ojp subservient, diffident, or favor-seeking students, or behind the 
ex parte report of an ex parte committee of trustees ? Why seek to excuse 
or palliate a wrong, b}' exaggerating or harping upon the faults of the 
dead? Prejudice, when suffered to hold too much sway in the heart, is 
cruel, uncharitable, and unforgiving. It often blunts human feelings when 
kindness is really deserved, and gives to the actions of those against whom 
it is indulged a false coloring. Louise, was once expelled from Dr. T.'s 
house, — ordered out of doors, for telling him a simple truth, even after 
she had begged his pardon. Do all his acts, before and since she left, agree 
with the statements now made, that he " had none but the kindest feeling 
towards her " ? 

I propose, now, to introduce to the reader the testimony of M. I. Reed, 
relative to the matter of L.'s leaving the Hill. I will here state, without 
fear of contradiction, that Miss Reed is a young lady whose standing in 
society, morally, intellectually, and religiously, entitles her to confidence 
and respect. ' She is a teacher of much practice, and, as a scholar and 
teacher, takes rank before tne public when known, among the first order. 
Being a lady of great energy of character, she interested herself in behalf 
of Louise as soon as she left, and thereby became acquainted with some 
important facts in her case. 

AFFIDAVIT OF M. I. REED. 

" I, Mira I. Reed, of Roxbury, being of the age of twenty-three years, 
do depose and say, that I and Chestina S. Greene, who is sister of M. L. 
Greene, were keeping house, boarding ourselves together in a room in the L 
part of Dr. Torsey's house, and attending his school on Kent's Hill at the 
time Louise left, — May 23, 1866. I was well acquainted with her, and 
have been for a number of j-ears. She was generous, kind-hearted, strictly 
honest and truthful in all things, so far as I knew her. I never knew oi 
heard a word against her character in any way, until after she left the Hill, 
May 23. I knew nothing about' any trouble until about a quarter past ten, 
A. M., the day she left, when Eliza Bowers and Sarah Dow, two of Louise's 
class-mates, came to my room in the college, where I was practising, and 
said L. had gone home, or to Lewiston. They told me she was accused of 
stealing ; said she had gone in her every-day dress. They were greatlv 
alarmed about her ; were crying. I said :'L would feel so bad she would 



54 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOKN. 

kill herself.' Miss Bowers says : ' I fear so. Won't you go and see Dr. T. ? 
I think you will do best with him.' I said I would. On my way up to Dr. 
Torsey's I met Chestina on the street, and in answer to my inquiries she 
said she had just found a note saying that she (L.) had gone to Lewiston. 
She also went to see Miss Case, to ascertain how L. had gone. When she 
came back, feeling terribly, finding she had taken nothing with her, and 
had gone in her poorest clothing, she went down and out to find Dr. T. 
She found him in his stable. She came back in a few moments, and said : 
' What can I do ? What can I do ? ' and all in tears, threw herself on the 
bed. I went on the street, and met Mr. Harriman the stage-driver, who 
had just returned from the depot, where he had just left L. He said she 
had bought a ticket for Lewiston. I told him I thought she' would kill 
herself before night. He said ' he thought so.' He shed tears. I asked 
him 4 if he would go to Lewiston after her.' He said, ' I will. I think I 
can do better than any one else, as I am so well acquainted with her.' I 
said, ' You and Chestina had better go immediately after her.' He left, 
as I supposed, to get his team. I said, ' I would get Chestina ready in fif- 
teen minutes.' On returning to our room, I found Chestina still on the 
bed ; told her to get up. She should not lie there ; she must get ready 
to go with Harriman. I got her clothing ready. About this time Dr. T. 
came to our door, and said ' he wanted to see Ches. alone.' I went out 
into the adjoining room. He went in. When he came out of our room, I 
met him at the head of the stairs. I told him I feared she would kill her- 
self before night. He said, ' he had no fears of that.' I cited her going 
in her poorest clothing. (He stepped back into our room, sat down, and 
talked a long while.) He said ' that looked like going into the factory to 
work.' We still arguing the improbability of that, he seemed to think she 
was running away. We said we did not know how much money she had 
with her. He said, ' he understood she had fifty dollars sent lately : said 
something about her having a large letter from home lately. His talk and 
cool argument did quiet Ches.'s fears considerably ; but still she, all the 
time, wanted to pursue her to Lewiston. This conversation with T. was 
at, or about, or just before twelve o'clock noon. He left, and then there 
was a long delay, a terrible suspense, — Ches., again taking on as before. 
No Harriman came with a team, as I expected at first he would. But, 
between two and three o'clock, p. m., Tors ey came up to our room again, 
and said that the arrangement was for Chestina to go home and let her 
father manage it, or do as he thought best ; or words to that effect. He 
says to Chestina, ' You will have no objections to going home with Mr. 
Chandler, I suppose?' I do not recollect that Ches. made any reply. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 55 

She did not object ; but I knew she "was greatly disappointed that she 
could not go to Lewiston after her. She said so as soon as he was gone ; 
but, as she had appealed to Dr. T. to know what she had better do, she 
felt that she must submit to his arrangement. Dr. T., in the first conversa- 
tion at our room, told us, ( that he had never suspected her, Louise, of any, 
dishonesty in that direction ; ' said ' he had a long conversation with her 
that morniug. Louise said, " if she could not graduate, there was no future 
for her." I asked her what she proposed to do. She said, u I want this 
kept from the school, and stay and graduate." I said " the school know 
it ; " that she then broke down, crying, and feeling terribly/ I was told 
that Miss Case told May Chapman, ' she had better not go to Louise that 
night (May 22d), but leave her alone.' As I understand, she was left 
alone, and her bed was not tumbled ; and it is believed she did not sleep 
any that night. When Dr. T. told us the arrangement was for her to go 
home, and that Mr. Chandler would go with her, I or we spoke of going 
immediately. Dr. T. seemed to be in no hurry, but remarked, ' It would 
be a pleasant evening to ride in ; or they could go up in the evening.' 
Then there was another long delay, a horrible suspense. I did not study 
or recite anj 7 that day. It was so with Louise's class-mates, and with the 
school generally, so far as I know or discovered. Why, a terrible commo- 
tion was on the Hill : an old, and valuable student — one just ready to 
graduate — had so suddenly been accused, for the first time in her life, and 
had so suddenly left, in the way and manner she had, there was a terrible 
excitement and feeling about the matter ; so much so that all who knew 
her, could, or did not attempt to, do much that day, after it was known she 
had left. All looked pale, and appeared fearful of the result. The report 
was, that she had taken a large amount 'of clothing from the teachers' and 
students' rooms, — valuable marked and unmarked articles. 

" I got all out of patience waiting for the team to come. It did seem as 
if they never would get started to take Chestina home ; but after supper, 
at, or about six o'clock, they got started with her for home, which is 
twenty-five miles. Dr. T. was informed that she had taken off her gofd 
sleeve-buttons and class ring soon after she had gone. 

"MntA I. Reed." 



"STATE OF MAINE. 

"Kennebec, ss., January 26th, 1867. 

" Then the above-named Mir a I. Reed personally appeared, and made 



56 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

oath that the foregoing statement by her subscribed is true, according to 
her best knowledge and belief. 

" Before me, 

"Emery O. Bean, Jus. Peace." 

Asking my readers to bear in mind the special points in this statement 
of Miss Reed, and for the present make their own deductions therefrom 
I pass to the 

AFFIDAVIT OF CHESTINA S. GREENE. 

" I, Chestina S. Greene, aged seventeen years, hereby certify that I am 
sister of M. Louise Greene, and was keeping house with Mir a I. Reed, on 
Kent's Hill, at the time L. left, May 23, 1866. Before noon, on Tuesday, 
May 22, Miss Case and Mrs. Daggett came up, and went into Dr. Torsey's 
part of the house first," and then came into our room. Said, ' There have 
been lately several articles of clothing lost at the college, and we have 
discovered that j^our sister has been putting into the wash articles that 
belong to other persons ; and in searching her room and drawers, we found 
articles marked.' Said ' she had confessed she had taken unmarked articles 
of clothing, and five dollars in money ; and we have come to look to your 
things. We did not know but what Louise had brought things here/ I 
showed them all my things, and opened my trunk, boxes, closet, and all ; and 
then they wanted to know if there was not another trunk, — if Louise did 
not keep a trunk there. I said, ' No.' They seemed to think, or give me 
to understand, that she had committed a terrible crime in wearing the 
clothing, as well as taking the money. Gave me to understand that she 
had in her room, trunk, and drawers a large amount of marked and 
unmarked clothing, not her own. Louise came up while they were there, 
and seemed to want them to look into eveiything, to satisfy them. She 
asked them if they had told rue. L. says to Miss Case, ' I feel so 
strange ! I wish I could think ; but I can't.' They found nothing there. 
Making apologies, they left. She, L., looked very pale. I said, ' What 
does this mean?' She says, ' They have been losing lots of things at the 
college this term ; and as I put unmarked clothing into the wash last week, 
they lay all to me. They have searched our room, — all my things. This 
is what comes of having things unmarked. What shall I do? If this 
thing gets out into the school, there will be all manner of stories going. 
What will they not accuse me of ? ' She repeated, ' What shall I do?' I 
told her • I guessed it would not get out any further ; the teachers would not 
say anything about it, and it would pass off.' She said ' she hoped it would.' 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 57 

She looked sad. She went back to the college, and I heard nothing more 
'until I came home the next day, Wednesday 23d, before noon, from 
practising music, and found in my room, in Dr. T.'s house, a note on the 
table, saying, — 

" 'Ches., tell May I have gone to Lewiston, and if she wants to know, 
ask Miss Case why. Signed, Louise.' 

" I soon saw Mira I. Reed. She asked me ' if I knew L. had gone/ I 
was on my way to the college to see Miss Case, to know how she had gone ; 
and when I found out, I hardly knew what to say or do. Came up to our 
room, and laid down on the bed in tears. I soon went clown, and out to 
the barn, and found Dr. T. in the upper part of his stable. I asked him if 
he knew where L. had gone ? He said, ' I have just learned that she had 
gone, and supposed she had gone to Lewiston, as she spoke of going there.' 
Said he had advised and urged her to go home. Said his talk with her was 
chiefly about asking forgiveness of God and her parents. lie said that 
Louise said, she had always had all the money she had asked for. I asked 
him if she could not have stayed and graduated. ' Well, no,' he said. ' It 
would not have been best for her to have gone on the stage. She would 
have been pointed out to everybody as the girl that stole. I said, ' What 
is to be done ? What can I do ? ' I told him I was afraid 'she would go 
off, and make away with herself. I had been to the college to see Miss 
Case, with the note in my hand, and asked her if she knew Louise had 
gone. She said she had just heard so. She grabbed the note from my 
hand, and read it. She seemed to think it very strange, perfectty incom- 
prehensible. She took me to her room, and talked some time. She seemed 
to be very cool. She could not understand it all, etc. When I got back, 
Mira came in, and I went to see T., as before stated. And when I came in 
again, after I saw Torsey, I threw myself on the bed again. By and by 
T. came to our room, and said he had been to the college, and found L. 
had gone in her poorest clothing. She had taken off her gold sleeve-but- 
tons and class ring. Had taken nothing with her but her reticule. I was 
then frightened about her. Said she would make way with herself. He 
said, ' Oh, no ! I do not fear that.' I said, l What can I do? I cannot stay 
here, and do nothing. Hadn't I better go to Lewiston after her?' ' Well, 
he didn't know.' Said he could, or would get me a team to go to Lewis- 
ton, or to go home, if I thought best. I did not know what to do. I 
went again to the college, to find out more how she went, and what she 
said, and what she wore ; and when I returned I saw B. Harriman, the 
stage-driver. I asked him what I had better do. He says, 'I do not 



58 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

know what to advise you to do. It will cost some ten. or twelve dollars 
for a team to go to Lewis ton, and you might be blamed if you should find" 
her there ; or, if she has gone home, your father might blame you ; and 
then if she destroys her life, or goes off, he will blame you. I saw Dr. T. 
again, and asked his advice. He said, ' It is arranged for you to go home, 
and have your father see to it, or take charge of the matter, and do as lie 
thinks best. Yes, I think you better do that.' He went to see about 
a team ; and, after a long dela}^ a team and Mr. Chandler came ; and we 
started at six o'clock at night for home, which was twenty-five miles. Mr. 
Torsey sent a letter to father by Mr. Chandler ; but sent no special word, 
information, or request by me to any one at home. 

"Chestina S. Greene." 

" City of Petersburg and State of Va., to wit : 

" The above certificate was sworn and subscribed to before me this 16th 
February, 1867. 

"B. I. A. TUTTERWORTH, J. P." 

We were told at Lewiston, in less than a week after L. had left, by Mr. 
Frost, a former student at the Hill, " that he received a letter from a 
student then attending school on the Hill, the next clay after L. left, saying, 
that when she left, it was the opinion of students there that she was not in 
her right mind, and that she would commit suicide." He further said, 
" that with his previous knowledge of the management on the Hill, it was 
his opinion that the time and manner of her leaving, and the fears of 
students must have reached Dr. Torsey immediately." All who are 
acquainted on the Hill are well aware how hard it is for the slightest trans- 
action to transpire on that Hill without his knowledge. His Argus eye is 
ready to discover the slightest move of every student. I could not take a 
student away two miles, for only a short time, without his knowledge, and 
a questioning of that student relative to her whereabouts while she was 
absent. 

It will be observed that both Miss Reed and Chestina became alarmed 
for the safety of Louise, as soon as they heard she had left. The quick 
perception of Miss Reed told her in a moment that there was danger in her 
case ; while even Chestina, in her youthful thoughtlessness, perceived the 
true state of the case at the first glance. The disinterested stage-driver, 
Mr. Harriman, also came to the same conclusion, as appears from expres- 
sions then made, whatever he may now say to the contrary, without waiting 
for arguments and full explanations. Miss Bowers and Miss Dow were 



THE CKOWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 59 

alarmed, wept, and proposed that action should be taken in the matter 
forthwith, and proposed an appeal to him who from his position should be 
the one to organize action. Yet the acute acumen of the principal of that 
institution saw no danger, discovered nothing but an intention to go to 
the factory, or run away. " Had no fears," but readily adopted the pre- 
posterous idea, that she would divest herself of her jewelry, leave all her 
best clothing behind, and a run away," or go to the factory in her poorest, 
every-daj^, soiled apparel! It is true, having "advised" her to leave, 
knowing her state of mind, to pursue or bring her back might seem incon- 
sistent, and be at variance with the feelings of the natural-minded man ; 
but in the light of Christianity and the spirit of the gospel, it is better by 
far to retract a wrong than to persist in it. 

I appeal to the candid reader to say whether, in this case, there does not 
appear to be either a lack in discernment, a careless indifference, or wilful 
neglect, as to what the result might be. I do not mean to say that Mr. 
Harriman, the stage-driver, was prevented from going to Lewiston with 
Chestina by the advice or directions of any one directly to that point ; he 
might have voluntarily changed his mind in that matter ; that he advised 
with Dr. T. on the subject is evident, from his statement subsequently made 
to me. There can be no doubt, had he been advised to that course by 
Dr. Torsey, he would have done as was first suggested by Miss Reed, and 
agreed to by him. It is clear, to my mind, that it was the management of 
Dr. T. that prevented his going. Miss Reed, and others, understood that 
L. was not in a condition of mind to be safely trusted off alone. Were 
their facilities greater, and their opportunity better, for judging of her state 
of mind than were Dr. Torsey's ? He had had a " long conversation with her " 
that morning, whereas it does not appear that the others had. He must 
have discovered the despair and despondency that seized upon her mind 
when she declared " there was no future for her ; " that it was sealed up. 
From passages which I have quoted from both Dr. T.'s and Professor R.'s 
letters, it appears plainly that L. was not considered sound in mind, or, at 
least, was under such mental excitement that she was not accounted com- 
petent to make arrangements for, and take care of, herself. " Finally 
agreeing," says Dr. T., " as / understood it, to make no arrangements her- 
self, but allow Chestina to make them." What did this mean? What is 
the inference? " But she said" says Professor R. in his letter, " she some- 
times went by the way of Lewiston, and her father would meet her there; but 
whichever way she went, she would let her sister make all necessary arrange- 
ments for it. As soon as Dr. Torsey learned that she had gone, contrary 



60 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

to her promise, without the knowledge of her sister, he immediately sent a 
student, with the sister, to Mr. Greene," etc. 

Louise was twenty-two years of age, while Chestina was but seventeen. 
L. had been on the Hill, through the terms, for five years, — was well ac- 
quainted, and at home there ; while Chestina, comparatively, was but a 
stranger there. Why was it insisted that this young sister should make all 
the arrangements? Why did L. make such an agreement or. promise, if 
she did make such as they saj^, unless it was suggested and urged upon 
her? Why was she, who " ivas of age" as Dr. T. once told us, and who 
had formerly acted the matronly part towards that sister, to be placed un- 
der her youthful guardianship on this occasion, unless she was considered 
by him in such a state of mind as to be incompetent to make arrangements 
for herself? Circumstances show very plainly that it was on account of her 
" bewildered " and excited state of mind, as manifested by her appearance, 
and the result shows that in that matter, at least, the conclusion and judg- 
ment were correct. 

Having shown my readers a portion of the circumstances, and a part of 
what was said and done to influence or cause the exit of my daughter from 
the Hill, I will now ask them to go with me farther into an examination of 
her guilt and crime, in the matters of which she has been accused. I be- 
lieve, in all well-ordered courts, before any just tribunal, whatever may 
have been the crime, the culprit is held to be entitled to all the benefit of a 
previously good character, which, before a humane tribunal, pleads in miti- 
gation of penalties incurred. I have shown, b}^ certificates, the character L. 
sustained in her own town and in the towns where she had been employed 
as a teacher. I will now show how her character was understood on Kent's 
Hill, by those who had the best opportunity to form correct opinions re- 
specting her, and where she had been a sojourner, during the terms, for ■ 
five years. For this purpose, I will call some of her class-mates, and other 
students who were school-mates of hers, and let their written statements 
answer. I will here say that, in quoting and making extracts from letters, 
I copy from none except from persons who are, or have been, in some way 
connected with Kent's Hill institution. My motive in withholding signa- 
tures for the present will be appreciated and understood, when I state that 
the position and relation of many of the writers, at present in connection 
with that institution, might render the publicity of their names unpleasant 
to them, and make them subject to such ani^ances as have sometimes fall- 
en to others. I have now before me a letter, handed me by the clerk of Peru, 
who says there is no impropriety in my publishing it entire. It is as fol- 
lows : 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 61 

"Winslow, December lGtJi, 18GG. 

" Mr. S. R. Newell : Sir, — Your letter came to hand yesterday, and 
I was very glad to receive it ; for I have long wished for some avenue 
through which to express my esteem and love for Louise, and inexpressible 
sorrow for her untimely death. Louise was not only my class-mate, but 
my very dear and personal friend, for three years. Being such, I could, 
perhaps, form a better estimate of her character than many others. 

" During all the close intimacy of school-girl life, up to the time she left 
us, her life was not only one of morality, but of unselfish and careful con- 
sideration of the happiness of others. Through all our friendship, I never 
heard her speak evil of any one, except a few times, when her sensitive 
spirit had been stung to the quick by a careless word let fall by those whc 
considered her destitute of feeling. For the sake of making others happy, 
she seemed to lay aside all those likes and dislikes so common to school 
life, and yet so strong while they last. 

" She was literally a peace-maker. Many a one can testify to difficulties 
smoothed and hours made happy by her. Many a one has gone to her it 
trouble, and, laying aside her own pursuits, she would cheerfully give then: 
her aid, until the trouble was removed. 

" She had the rare talent of adapting herself to the company around her, 
and endeavoring to make the time pass as pleasantly as she could. How 
often, during some of the ' dark days ' which come to all, have I been com- 
forted by our dear Louise ! How many happy hours do I owe to her who 
has gone from us forever ! Of her literary acquirements, perhaps I need 
not speak ; they are well known to many students who have attended 
school with her. Besides the knowledge acquired by study, Louise was 
naturally very talented ; in my estimation as much so as any one who ever 
went from Kent's Hill during my stay there. Of her death, and the sad 
cause of it, I can say nothing that would throw new light upon it. Only, 
in my sorrow, I remember that the Father of all judges not as man judges. 
I could fill page after page with expressions of the worth and acquirements 
of our departed Louise ; but perhaps I have said enough for every pur- 
pose. Accept these few lines as an earnest and sincere tribute to the mem- 
ory of Louise, from one who knew her intimately, and loved her dearly. 
" Yours, etc., Adelaide Webb, 

" Class-mate of Miss Louise Greene.'* 

I have also before me a few other letters from her class-mates, handed to 
me by the same friend. I shall not weary the reader with the perusal of 
all these letters entire, but shall make such extracts as may seem directly 



(52 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

to touch the point now under consideration. In one of these, under date 
of December 28, 1866, I find the following: — 

11 1 scarcely know what to say to you after my former letter. I was un- 
able to consult the class, we were so far separated, so we might act to- 
gether. 

" I then thought I could as easily speak to the public of Miss Greene, as 
to you, or any one, in private. But when trying to write for publication, 
I could not do it, and, for several reasons, think it best not to publish any- 
thing. I regarded her character as above reproach, until this last act. 
This I could say, but it has been said continually, to the public. We all 
know she ought to have been saved ; but we, as it were, were paralyzed with 
grief, and did not act as we now regret so much." 

From another of these letters, dated Dec. 26, 1866, I make the follow- 
ing extract : — 

" No one could have admired or appreciated, more fully than myself, the 
truly superior talents of our lamented class-mate. No one is more pleased 
than myself to speak of her beautiful traits of character, or to dwell upon 
the perfect kindly feeling that ever existed between us, as friends, as 
class-mates, as sisters, in class and in society. 

" Of these things I think much ; of them I am ever happy to speak to 
others. 

" I feel that anything from my pen for the purpose of publication is 
uncalled for. 

" I feel that in this case public opinion has ever been and now is very 
charitable and sympathetic, and seems to demand no further proof of the 
many talents and virtues of our beloved friend." 

I will now give a few extracts from other letters, written by L/s school- 
mates and class-mates to different persons. I copy from a letter dated 
Nov. 4th, 1866 : — 

" I think it a fact, that no student has ever been more universally be- 
loved than was Louise. Indeed, I do not know of a single person who 
bore any feeling of dislike to her ; and as long as I have been here at 
school (five terms) , I have never heard a word against her moral character 
either from teachers or students. 

" A year ago last spring she sat next to me in one section in the college 
dining-hall. I used to like her lively conversation ; and as I got better 
acquainted with her, and learned what a kind, womanly heart she had, I 
learned to love her, and I used to think she had some love for me." 






THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. G3 

Another student, writing under date of March 24, 1867, when speaking 
of being acquainted with L., says : — 

" And I knew her but to love and respect ; and think I am but express- 
ing the sentiment of her numerous circle of friends and acquaintances 
when I say, she was universally respected and beloved. Her standing in 
the school was of the highest rank, and her scholarship and ability 
unquestioned. I know of none in my whole circle of acquaintance on the 
Hill, who occupied, in the affections of their school-mates, a position so 
enviable. 

" If others seek to do her injustice, God forgive them ! 

" Unfortunate as is the past, I cannot censure. 

" As a class-mate and personal friend, our acquaintance, though, perhaps, 
not intimate, was yet sufficient for me to sa} r , in all truth, I believe her to 
be as free from any intentional wrong as is possible for weak humanity to 
be. I would write whatever of wrong in sand." 

I have before me another letter, written by one of her class-mates, and 
as it was the young lady to whom her " class letter" was directed, and as 
confining myself to extracts would in a measure destroy the beauty and 
pathos of the sentiments therein contained, I will give the letter entire, — 
a splendid endorsement of her character by one who knew her well, as 
follows : — 

" Unity*, Maine, Sunday, Oct. 21, 18G6. 
" Mrs. Greene : Afflicted Parent of ' our Sister/ — As your family 
assemble to-day, in agonizing grief, to lay away the sacred remains of 
4 dear Louise ' in its last resting-place, near by her own loved home, you 
cannot know the many mourning hearts that sympathize with you in this 
your deepest affliction. You cannot see the bitter tears that fall with 
yours to-day over l our dear sister's ' fate. As I sit alone in my own 
little room to-day, my thoughts are all with you, my stranger friends, and 
oh, I fain would fly to you and tell you of my sympathy, and beg you 
never to forget that we, her 4 sisters,' mourn with you this great bereave- 
ment, — yours first, ours next. Although I am but one, I know I speak 
the hearts of all the class. Oh ! could you have known the agony that 
rent our hearts, when first we knew ' our sister,' had left us ; could you 
have seen the sorrow-stricken group that assembled in my room as that pre- 
cious letter, her last message to us, was received ; could you have looked 
into our hearts, and seen, through these long months, the restless watching 
for some trace, some knowledge, some message from 4 our poor Louise, — 



64 » THE CROWiN WON T BUT NOT WORN. 

• 
and when at last it came, how did the dreadful bolt strike home to every 
sister heart ! — could you but know all this, as I do know it, you could never 
doubt our grief, but would feel, if sympathy can lessen grief, or soothe the 
mourner, that your own heart-crushing agony had lessor grown, and that 
a soothing balm were falling on your overburdened spirit. Would that I 
could say some word of consolation ; but well I know how vain are words 
to express what the heart would dictate at such a time. One little thing I 
wish to mention, my dear stranger friend, and may the simple instance im- 
press you as beautifully as it did myself. Yesterday, my mother and I had 
been speaking of Louise all the afternoon, — of her brilliant powers of 
mind ; her uncommon talent for writing ; her kindness and self-sacrific- 
ing regard for her friends ; her charity for the faults of others ; her en- 
couragement to those who were striving to do right ; of our sorrow at her 
fate so sad, so awful ; and our deep sympathy for you in your heart- 
breaking agony, — of all these things we were speaking, when, as I passed 
into another room, I picked up a piece of a torn paper that had been acci- 
dentally dropped by some one, and my eye fell upon a piece of poetry, 
entitled, ' Lines to a 'Skeleton,' that seemed so very beautifully appro- 
priate to the occasion, that I really thought it strange. My mother was 
equally impressed with its beauty ; and I cannot refrain from sending it 
to you, hoping that it may bring to you the same soothing influence 
that fell upon my heart, as I read it. 

" Dear Mrs. Greene, — I have a great favor to ask of you, the granting 
of which would render me very thankful. That letter that dear Louise 
sent to us — her class — was directed to myself. I remailed it to you, after 
having reserved a copy for each of us ; and also, the envelope in which it 
came, which bears my name (Eliza J. Perley). If 'tis preserved, and you 
have not the slightest objection, /would prize that simple envelope very highly, 
as a last token to myself from one I loved so dearly ; and oh ! if you could 
send me, too, one of her pictures, I would be very thankful. She had 
mine, but had none of her own to exchange at the time. I desire one very 
much. Pardon these requests from one who is a stranger to you ; but be 
this my plea, — your dear Louise was dear to me. Your daughter was my 
sister. But now, stranger friend, good-by ; and may a God of love and 
mercy strengthen your heart in your affliction, is the prayer of 

"Eliza Perley." 

I think I have produced sufficient testimony to establish the good char- 
acter of my daughter up to the time when she was first accused of any 
serious wrong. As no one ever assailed her reputation up to that time, it 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 65 

may seem to some quite needless that I have said so much. But when it 
is considered that it is contrary to the common course of vice, for any one 
to plunge at once from the height of seeming virtue to deep infamy and 
disgrace at the first step, I wish to show my stranger reader, who may 
infer, from the fact that the act was committed, that her character was pre- 
viously bad, that there is a mystery here ; and if my daughter was ration- 
ally and intentionally guilty of the wrong with which she was charged, it 
is a case at variance with precedent, and the usual progress of iniquity. 

I have endeavored to show that the last statement of Louise respecting 
being advised to leave that day, was true. I propose now to show that her 
statement concerning the clothing was true, also. 

After leaving the faculty meeting, on the 30th clay of May, which I have 
before mentioned, not obtaining much information, from that quarter, rela- 
tive to the charges brought against L., of taking clothing not her own, and 
being told by Miss Case that Mrs. Daggett knew best about that matter, 
we repaired to the college, to have an interview with Mr. and Mrs. D. 
Dr. Torsey had preceded us thither, probably to report " progress," and 
look after his own side and interest in the affair. Mr. and Mrs. Daggett 
did not meet us in the faculty meeting, as was requested by me, perhaps 
for the reason that it might seem a little beneath their dignity to have their 
steward and his wife present in their dignified faculty meeting. 

We told Mr. Daggett that we had come to learn about the charges against 
Louise, of taking clothing, etc. ' He told us he knew but very little about 
the clothing, as he was not present at that investigation ; but referred us 
to his wife. Dr. Torsey then showed us into Mrs. Daggett's room, where 
we had a conversation with her relative to the clothing said to have been 
taken or stolen. The substance and material parts of that conversation 
will appear in the following 

CERTIFICATE OF JONAS GREENE. 

" I, Jonas Greene, do hereby testify and declare, that on the 30th day of 
May, 186G, myself and wife called at the room of Mrs. Daggett, in the 
college' building on Kent's Hill, and said to Mrs. Daggett, 'We have come 
to know about the charges against our daughter.' Mrs. Daggett said, 
' Do you want to know all ? ' I replied, ' Yes ; that is what we have come 
for.' She saicP, 'If it will not hurt your feelings, I will tell you all' 
(speaking as though our feelings could be worse hurt than they already 
were at the treatment our child had received, when we had then searched a 
week for her in vain, and believed her dead). 
5 



66 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

" She then said, ' The first we thought or had any suspicion was, that 
Louise had been putting cotton drawers, not her own, into the wash, for 
five or six weeks.' 

it <, Were they marked? ' we asked. 

" She answered, ' No.' 

" Mrs. Greene and I had agreed, before entering the college building, 
that if they said any of the things were marked, we would request them to 
produce the articles, that we might see if they were plainly marked, or if 
there was not some mistake in the mark, or some chance for a wrong con- 
struction to be put upon the real fact. 

" Mrs. Daggett continued, and said, ' We entered and searched her room 
and things while she was at meals, down at the table. We found in her 
room, trunk, and drawers, some articles that did not belong to her.' 

" We asked, c Were they marked ? ' 

u She answered, 'No.' 

u 'Do j'ou take the liberty/ we inquired, ' to unlock, enter, and search 
students' rooms when you please ? ' 

" ' Oh, yes,' she replied ; ' we could not get along here with so many stu- 
dents without that right, or without doing so.' 

"We asked her how she knew that these articles did riot belong to 
Louise. In substance, she replied, that they belonged to some other per- 
sons ; that ' two collars belonged to Miss Case ; that they were new style, 
tucked linen ; and that none in the college, except three teachers, had such 
collars.' 

" ' Were they marked?' we asked. 

" She ailswered, ' No.' 

u She then said, that ' Louise told her they were lately brought to her by 
her mother.' She said, ' Miss Case took them.' She said, ' Something was 
said to Louise about the clothing on Monday night ; but they did not go 
into investigation until Tuesday, May 22d.' She said, that ' she and Miss 
Case went to Louise, and questioned her, she not knowing that they had 
been into her room, and searched all her things ; that they asked her if she 
had any articles of clothing in her room, not her own ; ' that L. replied, ' I 
think likely there may be.' ' That they then asked her if she had such and 
such an article,' — naming two. She replied ' Yes ; I think so.' ; That 
they then asked her if she had such an article,' — naming a third in her 
room. She answered, ' No.' That they then told her the article was in 
her room, and that she had denied a knowledge of it. That they then 
showed her the article, and inquired of her whether it was hers. That she 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 67 

said, 'it was not.' We then again asked. '"Was this marked?' Mrs. D. 
answered, i No.' 

' Mrs. D. represented this to us as L.'s denying a knowledge of the 
article, and then owning she had stolen it, with other articles, which she 
owned were in her room. 

" She told us about L.'s having an unbleached chemise, which Miss A. 
Harriman claimed. i Was that marked ? ' we asked. She answered, ' No.' 
She said, ' It was put into the wash the Monday before L. left.' She told 
us about another chemise, which Miss Case claimed, which was in L.'s 
room, and which L. said did not belong to her. ' Was this marked ? ' was 
our inquiry. ' No.' was her reply. 

"A linen handkerchief, which belonged to Carrie Straw, and which L. 
said was not hers, Mrs. Daggett told us was found in L.'s room. * Was it 
marked ? ' we asked. ■ No,' was the answer. 

" She then told us about one or two towels being found in L.'s room, one 
of which L. said was not hers. 

" * Were they marked? ' was the inquiry ; and i No,' was the answer. 

" She also said something about some under-sleeves ; but said they were 
not marked. She said L. put into the wash on Monday, the 21st of May, 
two days before she left, two weeks' washing, with a written list of the 
articles to be washed, and returned to her and her chum's box. (L. was 
absent with her mother, at Lewiston, on the Monday previous, on the 14th, 
and could not put in her week's washing.) 

"In this bundle, Mrs. D. said, was the unmarked chemise which Miss 
Harriman claimed ; also, one ruffled chemise, which was taken to Miss J. 
Sherburn's room, on Monday, to see if she would claim it. She did so. 
We asked if that was marked. She said, l No.' She said there was one 
pair of cotton drawers in the bundle that belonged to Miss Lucy Belcher. 
' Were these marked?' we asked. She answered, * No.' 

" By this time we were getting out of all patience, in view of the current 
reports that had reached us at every turn, that L. had in her room, trunk, 
and drawers, a large lot of marked, as well as unmarked articles, and we 
asked if there was anything marked. Mrs. D. said, ' Yes, a linen hand- 
kerchief.' Mrs. Greene said, ' Was it a nice one?' l No,' was her reply. 

" ' Was it new? ' said Mrs. Greene. 

" ' No,' was the answer. 

" * Was it an old one?" continued Mrs. Greene. 

" ' Yes,' said Mrs. D., ' with holes in- it.' 



U 4 



Was this all that was marked?' said Mrs. G. 



68 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

" Mrs. D. said, l There was a pair of stockings that looked as though a 
mark had been pulled out/ 

" Mrs N Daggett stopped here. 

" Mrs. Greene then said, ' How did Miss Case and others know that these 
articles were theirs ? ' 

" ' Oh, by the sewing/ said Mrs. D. ; * and .by the quality of the cloth. 
Could you not tell your girl's clothing?' 

" ' No,' said Mrs. Greene ; ' I could not tell with certainty in that way. 
Many of her clothes were made out of our house, by others ; and I do not 
believe those who claimed and took those articles, could tell, with any cer- 
tainty, whether they were theirs or not. No doubt they had lost articles 
enough, and were glad to get what they could. They might be perfectly 
honest, and really believe they were theirs.' 

"This conversation was just one week after Louise left the Hill, when 
all the circumstances must have been fresh in the mind of Mrs. Daggett. 

"Jonas Greene." 

" Oxford, ss., August 2tth, A.D. 1867. 

" Personally appeared, Jonas Greene, and made oath that the above cer- 
tificate and statement by him subscribed, is true, as being the substance of 
the conversation touching the subject therein named. 

" Before me, 

"Roscoe H. Thompson, 

"Justice of the Peace.' 

" I, Louisa M. Greene, hereby testify that I was present in the room of 
Mrs. Daggett, on Kent's Hill, on the 30th clay of May, 1866, during the 
conversation alluded to in the certificate of my husband, Jonas Greene, .and 
do know, assert, and declare that the same is true. 

"Louisa M. Greene." 

" Oxford, ss., August 2Uh, 1867. 

" Personally appeared the above-named Louisa M. Greene, and made 
oath that the above statement by her subscribed, is true. 

" Before me, 

"Roscoe H. Thompson, 

"Justice of the Peace." 

I appeal to the public, to any profound lawyer or jurist, to say whether 
they had any evidenc e on which they could rely, to hold these common 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 69 

white under-garnients, when it is a known fact that in nearly all the dry- 
goods stores in the State may be found the same style and quality of cloth, 
manufactured at the same mills, and that the manner of making such ar- 
cles is about the same all over the State. I.appeal to them, also, to say 
whether it was dealing fairly with my daughter to enter her room and take 
such unmarked articles, passing them through the rooms of the college, to 
see if they could find an}' student to claim them, in order to implicate her 
in takiug them-; and thus making the matter public in the onset. Does it 
not look as though having detected L. in a misdemeanor, which she prompt- 
ly confessed, they desired to make it tell as hard against her as possible, 
and were willing to arouse suspicion against her, and magnify her faults 
rather than palliate, — to wound, rather than console, her already distressed 
and " distracted" mind? Does it not appear, from the manifestation of 
this disposition, that the last statement of L. was true when she said : 
" They tried to make me account for all the little things that had been 
missed through the term " ? 

• I had another interview with Mrs. Daggett, in her room, on the 8th of 
November, when, at my request, she went over the whole account of accu- 
sations against Louise, adding many new statements, and materially alter- 
ing others. At this time, as well as at the first time we talked with her, 
she showed evident signs of prejudice, and a willingness to make the whole 
matter appear as bad as possible against Louise. 

Whether these variations in her statements were made on account of her 
recollections of the affair being more vivid after the expiration of nearly 
eight months, than in one week after the transaction, or for the purpose of 
excusing or shielding the faculty, or any one of them, from censure, I leave 
the reader to judge. And whether her seeming prejudice was real and self- 
conceived, or instigated by others, and in their interest, is more than I can 
tell. Dr. T., in a letter to me, dated June 30th, 1866, makes his charges 
against L. in the following language : — 

" The facts, I believe, are these : Louise sent, at different times, bun- 
dles of clothing to the wash, from which were taken, by the wash-girl, five 
articles of clothing not hers. In her room were found nine or ten articles, 
some of them marked, some of them not, having been sent to the wash, — 
some of them belonging out of the building. Before they were shown her, 
she denied she had such articles in her room. The money she took, and 
put out of her hands at once. For three years she had kept a skeleton key, 
opening all of the students' rooms." Mark what he says : " The facts, 1 
believe, are these." He does not know the facts are so. He told us he did 
not know what the facts were, in the faculty meeting. Miss Case told us 



70 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

the same in that meeting, and Mr. Daggett told me the same May 30th, 
and November 8th, 1866. Nobody pretended to know but Mrs. D., and 
nobody does know what the facts were, except Mrs. D. Mrs. D. had told 
us, or endeavored to tell i\s, all about this matter of stealing clothing, as 
they represented it, on the 30th day of May. Time rolled on. Louise was 
lost, and could not be found. The public began to understand more about 
this sad affair, and seriously to censure some of the faculty. Public excite- 
ment was increasing, and the necessity seemed to exist of making L.'s case 
as bad, and look as dark, as possible. New discoveries were made of arti- 
cles in her room, which had evaded the scrutinizing search of Mrs. D. and 
Miss Case, when they searched everything in her room, even the body oi 
the doomed girl, to her very under-garments on her, as Mrs. D. told me. 

I will here say, that it might be a misdemeanor in L. not marking her 
clothes. If so, she was not alone in the fault, as other students, and even 
the teachers, were guilty of the same. If it had not been so, Miss Case and 
others could not have claimed the unmarked articles found with Louise, 
some of which, no doubt, belonged to her, as I shall hereafter endeavor to 
show. 

As Dr. T., Mrs. Daggett, and others, in their charges against Louise, and 
in their letters, use the term " her room," it is proper for me to inform the 
reader that L. did not occupy the room alone, but had a room-mate, who 
occupied the same bed with her, each furnishing one-half the sheets and pil- 
low-cases. They occupied the room and clothes-closet in common. Their 
clothes, when washed and ironed, were put in the same box ; sometimes 
one, and sometimes the other, and sometimes both together, going after 
them. Was there anything mysterious in the matter, that an article was 
found in the room thus occupied, of which she had no knowledge? And 
would such finding, and her denial of a knowledge, of such articles furnish 
sufficient evidence, in the opinion of any sound-minded man, to convict her 
of stealing, or of any intention to steal ? 

I have used the term " stealing," not because I do not know, nor because 
I suppose that every well-informed reader does not know, that this act of 
" taking clothing," of which they accuse her, is not stealing in the light of 
the law; but because I have reason to believe, from circumstances, and 
her last letter to her sister, that they did " impress upon her mind 
the idea and conviction that they considered her guilty in this matter of 
stealing the unmarked articles found in her room which were not her own." 
She says in, her letter : "As I live I had no intention of stealing them ; " 
which shows plainly that the same accusation had been made to her which 
has been reported to the public, — that she stole these articles. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 71 

Taking these unmarked articles in lieu of her own, which weie gone, 
which had been taken, perhaps, by others in like manner, might be contra- 
ry to the rules, if not the practice, at the institution, and a misdemeanor or 
trespass before the law ; but to take articles in such a manner, to use and 
not to keep, in open day, to wear and expose them without concealment, 
returning them to the wash openly, with a list of the same, and her own 
signature or name affixed, as she did, in this case, no jurist would pronounce 
it larceny. 

F. A. Robinson, one of the faculty, under date of November 12, 1866, 
writes as follows : — 

" The facts in the case are these : After as private an investigation as 
possible, Miss Greene acknowledged that she had taken several articles that 
did not belong to her. Also, that she had taken money from one of the 
young ladies. Also, that she had had in her possession, for two years, a 
false key, which would open most all the students' rooms in the college." 

He does not say what these articles were, nor how they were taken, but 
uses the word " taken," evidently intending to be understood " stolen." 
Neither does he say, as did Dr. T. : " The facts,- 1 believe, are these." 
It was then November. L.'s remains had been found, and her tongue and 
pen must be silent forever. From what has already been shown, and the 
fact that Dr. T. told L. the next morning after the investigation that the 
students knew of the affair, will the reader call it anything like a " private 
investigation " ? I know that many of the students did not know of the 
matter the next morning after she confessed ; they have told me so. But 
did he not mean she should understand that the school knew it when he told 
her so? 

Since writing the statement of a conversation with Mrs. Daggett on the 
30th day of May, 1866, a copy of a written statement made by her, as also 
one made by Mr. D., has fallen into my hands. Presuming that these 
statements were intended to correct the opinion and relieve the mind of the 
person to whom they were addressed of the impression that injustice had 
been done to Louise, by placing before him, over their own signatures, the 
extent and magnitude of her offences, I will give them the benefit of these 
productions by laying them entire before the public. 

COPY OF MRS. DAGGETT'S STATEMENT. 

" The first thing that led us to suspect Miss Greene of taking things 
was that one of the help missed a pair of drawers. In two weeks they 
came into the wash with Miss G.'s clothes, her name marked on them with 



72 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

blue ink. The Monday before she left she brought down a fortnight's 
wash (having been absent part of the week before), in which was a chemise 
belonging to Miss Sherburn, another to Miss Harriman, a pair of drawers 
to Miss Belcher, and a handkerchief to Miss Fuller; we found in her 
drawers a chemise belonging to Miss Case, another to one of her class- 
mates, Miss Fuller, which she admitted she knew whose it was. I asked 
her why she had not returned it. She said, she supposed she should, if 
she had known this would have come up. There was also found a towel 
belonging to Miss Robinson, and another unmarked, which she said did not 
belong to her ; two collars of Miss Case's, one of which she said at first 
was her own, but afterwards owned it was not ; a handkerchief of Miss 
Straw's ; a pair of under-sleeves of Miss Hunton's." 

"The above-named articles — some of them were marked, but mostly 
unmarked — were identified and claimed by the owners herein named. 

" Mrs. Daggett, Matron." 

Before I proceed to make an}' comment on this statement of Mrs. Dag- 
gett, I will give 

THE STATEMENT OF MRS. L. M. GREENE. 

" I, Louisa M. Greene, mother of M. L. Greene, hereby testify and assert, 
that on the thirteenth day of March, 1866, my daughters, Louise and 
Estelle, picked up all their articles of clothing, at the Packard house on 
Kent's Hill, — Estelle coming home with her father and Louise going to 
the college building to board. From the articles of wearing apparel, which 
she carried to the college at that time, and those which I carried to her on 
the 27th of March, and on the 11th and 14th of May, there were lost and 
missing (not including the towels handed to me by 'Mrs. Daggett, May 
30th, and the articles obtained by Miss Reed in October afterwards, nor 
those found on the remains of Louise), which did not come home with her 
things after she had gone, the following articles, namely : — 
5 pairs of cotton drawers, 4 pairs of them good and nearly new; 
7 chemises, some of them bleached, some unbleached. One of the bleacned was 

ruffled, two were trimmed ivith tape trimming, one a plain yoke; 
5 pairs of under-sleeves, one pair of them ribbed; 
2 long linen towels with a blotted mark (' L. M. Willard ') my maiden 

name, on them; 
1 long night-dress marked ; 
I nice new handkerchief, plainly marked with her name, and cost $1.00 ; 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 73 

8 napkins, two of them marked, — 6 of them new ones, not cut, — put in the 

bottom of her trunk by me May 14th, 1866 ; 
1 pair cloth boots ; 

1 tucked linen collar, which I carried her from home, May 11th, 1866 ; 
3 new collars, late style; bought them myself in May; have the impress on 

they were " tucked " ; 
1 box of paper collars ; bought them myself May 14th, 1866 ; 
1 pair of new cotton hose, bought May 14th, and several pairs which had 

been worn some ; 

6 skeins of black sewing-silk, which I sent her four daj^s before she left ; 

7 sticks of embroidering braid Mrs. Kent had her charged with when she 

left, cost $1.26; 
All her belts, buckles, bosom-pins and cuffs, - — I know she had several of 
each, — together with many trinkets and little fancy articles. In addition 
to these there were missing several valuable school-books, and four large 
sheets music copy paper ; 
1 stone flower pot. 

In all 60 articles or more lost or missing at this term only, 

"Louisa M. Greene." 

" Oxford, ss., Aug. 2Uh, 1867. 

" Personally appeared Louisa M. Greene, and made oath that the above 
statement by her subscribed is true according to her best knowledge and 
belief, before me. 

" Roscoe H. Thompson, Justice of the Peace." 

In 1864 Louise lost at the Hill two books, — one was " Golden Grains," 
the other " Ten Nights in a Bar-Room," — written by T. S. Arthur. 

I should not have named these small missing articles, had not such arti- 
cles been named in their charges against Louise. 

It must be apparent to every one, from the testimony of those connected 
with the institution, that the practice of putting unmarked clothing info 
the wash prevailed, and was indulged extensively, if not generally, at the 
time Louise was accused of taking clothing. Mrs. Daggett, says : "The 
first thing that led us to suspect Miss Greene of taking things was that 
one of the help missed a pair of drawers. In two weeks they came into 
the wash with Miss Greene's clothes, with her name marked on them, with 
blue ink." It is evident then, that these were unmarked till L. marked 
them. The " help," as well as teachers and students, were allowed to put 
unmarked clothes into the wash, while she, as well as others had nothing 



74 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

whereby she could recognize her own except the " hems and stitches," or 
something of the kind. "Every like is not the same." The help might 
be mistaken in the drawers and claim L.'s as her own ; or L. might make 
the same mistake with respect to those of the help. By means of ex- 
changing, by mistakes or something of a less harmless name, L. had been 
the loser in the operation ; and had all rooms been searched with the same 
relentless scrutiny as was hers, whose stubborn will to think for herself 
had doomed her to " walk on the Hill alone," no doubt the result of such 
exchanges would have been found in other rooms beside hers. I know not 
how it was managed, to get from L. her last pair of drawers ; but it is plain 
this was done. " I came to the college," she says, in her letter to her 
sister, " with three or four good whole drawers, — two pairs which were new 
ones, — and to-day, as I ride away, I have none ; they were lost in the 
wash, because unmarked." 

This was true. No drawers were found on her remains, and none re- 
turned home with her clothing. Could the u help " who claimed those 
marked with blue ink tell anything about what became of L.'s drawers? 
Perhaps not ; yet, somebody must know what became of them ; and it was 
hard that, from the ample stock of clothing which she had, and all she had 
been accused of " taking," she could not have been allowed a pair of 
drawers in which to travel to her leafy couch of death. As Louise had 
plenty of drawers of her own, if they were not lost, would she have returned 
those to the wash that the help claimed, if she had intended to steal them? 
Does it not look more reasonable that she supposed she had found a pair 
of her own missing drawers, and took a pen and marked them, in hopes 
she should not lose them again? 

An extract from a letter, dated April 14th, 1867, from a lady who had 
worked in the college building, will show how loose was the management 
in the laundry, and what other " help " were allowed to do. She says : — 

" There used to be some grumbling among the students about their clothes 
getting mixed up. Never knew of the steward furnishing money or clothes 
for anything that was missing. As we were short for help 10 do our wash- 
ing, the steward's wife told me to put my clothes in with students'. My 
clothes were not all marked. Towards the last of the term I missed one 
article of clothing, and could not find it anywhere ; but on the table I found 
an article of the same kind, that looked very much like mine, only it wag 
marked L. A. Jones, I think. At any rate it belonged to a young lady. 
She had left that week, and taken her clothes out of the wash. I made up 
my mind that she took her clothes in a hurry ; and took, as she thought, 
her own, but by mistake took one at tide that belonged to me, and left hers. 



. THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 75 

I went to the steward's wife, and told her about it. She said, most likely 
that was the case. ' Any way/ said she, ' take what you have found, and 
keep it until you find your own.' I wore that one out, with the mark on it, 
and did not consider it stealing, either. I cannot think that it is anything 
ver}^ strange that she, or any other girl among so many, should sometimes 
get on clothes that do not belong to them." 

11 The Monday before she left," says Mrs. Daggett, " she brought down 
a fortnight's wash, in which was a chemise belonging to Miss Sherburne, 
another to Miss Harriman, a pair of drawers to Miss Belcher, and a hand- 
kerchief to Miss Fuller." Here were four stolen or "taken" articles, it 
seems, returned fearlessly to the wash, openly, with her own hand, without 
covert or concealment, to be washed, and, if unmarked., to be put upon 
the common pile ; if marked, of course, to be there for the claimer, or put 
in the owner's box. At such evidence of larceny a jury of good or common 
sense would smile.. But none of these articles were distinctly marked, 
except the old handkerchief "with holes in it," which Mrs. D. told us 
about. That was marked with Miss Fuller's name. To this Louise tacked 
another handkerchief, and said in her list, " Two handkerchiefs marked 
' Miss Fuller ; ' " intending the mark on one to answer for both in the 
description, making no attempt at concealment. Mrs. Daggett has given 
what she may think are facts, which will answer the purpose for which they 
are written, without explanations or comments. I will allow Miss Sher- 
burne to express her own views respecting the first article named as being 
in the " bundle" brought to the wash. 

In a letter, dated at " Phillips, Jan. 29, 1867," Miss Sherburne says : — 

" Even if Louise did take some clothes from the wash, I should think nothing 
at all of that; for it is no more thdn others have done, if they could not find 
their own, to take what there was left. My chemise had been marked with 
ink, but had nearly faded out. It was not found in Louise's room, but she 
brought it into the wash with the rest of her clothes. Although I was but very 
little acquainted with your daughter, I ahvays thought very highly of her, and 
I never can think that the teachers, as well as Mrs. Daggett, did just right." 

Neither the chemise "belonging" to Miss Harriman, nor the drawers 
claimed by Miss Belcher, were marked. Miss Harriman writes, under date 
of "Feb. 1, 1867," and says: "The chemise that I lost was a new un- 
bleached one, — not large, but rather small; had been missing some two 
or three weeks. I first saw it afterwards on the ironing-room table," etc. 
" The article was not marked, but it was made unlike any other that I 
saw at the school." She further says : " There were frequent complaints 
that articles were lost in the wash. In regard to losing other things, J 



/6 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN 

lost a new nice chemise in the fall term," fj Ltu ixtta " lauen" this? Not 
Louise, surely ; for she was no longer there, to be urged " to account for all 
the little things missing." Miss Belcher, in a lecter dated " Feb. 28, 1867,". 
says : " The facts about the articles found in Miss Chapman's and your 
daughter's room I am unable to give, except as I heard them from the 
other teachers ; as I did not myself enter the room, or look at any of the 
things. It will therefore be much better for you to ask Miss Case, Mrs. 
Daggett, or Miss Robinson." (An oasis in the desert.) The reader will 
notice that while others are continually using the term " her room, her 
room," Miss Belcher recognizes the fact that she had a room-mate ; and 
that she did not enter that room to search, implicate, and claim unmarked 
articles. She continues : " About my things I will tell you in as few 
words as possible. I had missed several articles of clothing ; and on Mon- 
day morning of that unhappy week, went to Mrs. Daggett, and told her I 
could not put my clothes in the wash again, until I could be sure of having 
them all returned to me. She asked me what I had lost. I told her, 
among other things, was a pair of new drawers, which I had put into the 
wash two weeks before. I knew them by certain marks which I described 
to her." What these "certain marks" were she does not say; perhaps 
peculiar stitches or hems, or something of the kind. She does not say 
they were marked with her name. It will be seen that they had been 
missing two weeks ; and if they were Miss B.'s, Louise had worn them 
"a week, and returned them into the wash. But Miss Belcher had 
" missed several articles." Who had taken them ? They do not say 
they found them in the room, or pretend that L. returned to the wash 
any other article belonging to Miss Belcher. " She (Mrs. Daggett) 
next morning, I think (Tuesday), brought them to me, and asked me 
if those were the ones. I at once replied that they were. In the. course 
of the forenoon I was told it was suspected that one of the girls had been 
taking what did not belong to her ; and, later, that it was your daughter. 
I was very much surprised and shocked, and told the teacher who gave me 
the information that I would rather give her all my under-clothes than have 
it made public." It will here be seen that this exchange of clothing was 
represented to Miss B. as stealing, — a great crime. "It would be such a 
blow. I admired her always for her talents, which were of the highest 
'order ; and felt sure that there was something more to be explained. I 
know that words are powerless to comfort you ; but if an assurance of my 
heart-felt sorrow and pity for you, when I heard of the death of one of the 
most talented girls I ever knew, can be of any comfort, you have this 
assurance." In my judgment, had the same spirit and consideration that 



THE CROWN' WON BUT NOT WORN. 77 

breathes through this whole letter, from which I have made the foregoing 
extracts, been manifested by all concerned in this heart-rending affair, we 
might have been still blest with the society of our darling child, and saved 
the painful duty of this defence. Having shown that this article, returned 
to the wash in the bundle of which Mrs. Daggett speaks, was unmarked, 
and such as students and help had been allowed to take and wear when 
their own were gone, Mrs. Daggett continues : " We found in her drawer 
a chemise belonging to Miss Case, and another to one of her class-mates, 
Miss Fuller." The most I can say, in regard to the chemise claimed by 
Miss Case is, that L. had one just like that, which did not come home with 
her clothing; and the collars which she claimed and took from Louise, I 
believe were the same ones that Mrs. Greene carried to her, May 11, 1866. 
Mrs. D. told us that L. said so at first, but afterwards said the}' were not 
the ones. We shall never know in full what she did tell them about 
the clothing. It has been told me that they said L. at first told them that 
she took the articles of clothing because she was obliged to ; that she had 
frequently lost many things there, and had borne it in silence ; but now, when 
hers were gone, she intended to make her own number good from the pile 
of unmarked articles, until her own were returned. This, I believe, was 
the case ; and, further, that they followed in accusing, arguing, pursuing, 
until they got her so mortified and confused that she hardly knew what she 
did say. She saw they meant to make it look bad as they could, and that 
the}' meant to disgrace her ; but as I could not trace such admission to any 
reliable source, I give the above as my opinion of what Louise did say to 
them about the clothing. If that chemise* and collars were Miss Case's, 
then L. had certainly lost hers ; and it would not be strange if L. had taken 
these, thinking they were her own, she having articles like them ; or any- 
thing criminal, if she took them instead of her own. As to the article of 
Miss Fuller, Mrs. D. says : " She (L.) admitted that she knew whose it 
was." Mrs. D. has tried to represent this as an article known to L. as being 
marked ; as she did to me, Nov. 8. Had it been marked, this expression 
would not have occurred. They would have known that she knew whose 
it was, without asking. It is immaterial whether she had this through 
mistake, or in lieu of a lost one. She and Miss Fuller were class-mates, 
social and friendly as sisters. She had found out, if Mrs. D.'s statement 
is correct, whose chemise it was. This, it seems, gave her no particular con- 
cern or anxiety. It was going back to the wash at the usual time. She was 
asked " why she had not returned it." That is, I suppose, why she had not 
forthwith returned it, when she found' out whose it was. She answers 
(according to D.'s recollection eight months after), " she supposed she 



78 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

should, if she had known this would have eome up." She might have said, 
if she had known that, contrary to the practice with others, they would 
have gojb up this fuss. Miss Fuller writes Mrs. Greene, Feb. 1, 1867, from 
which I make the following extract : — 

" I have hesitated to open anew the terrible wound I had no power 
to heal ; but it cannot be unpleasant for you to hear repeated how much 
we loved our dear lost sister, although you know it so well already. If 
she had been less dear to us, or if we had been less proud of her talents 
and acquirements, that last blow would not have fallen upon us with 
such crushing weight ; and although it is such a bitter thing for us, 
yet I feel that we cannot know the depth of your anguish when all 
your fears proved true, and you knew that our dear Louise could never 
speak again to you. Oh, it did seem almost too hard, and hardest 
of all to believe that a word in season to the prayer of her letter 
to us might have saved her ! But then it was too late ; and when that 
word might have been spoken, everybody seemed powerless to act. We 
were paralyzed, it seems. I can explain it to myself in no other way. The 
garment that Mr. Greene wished me to describe to you, was a chemise 
with a straight yoke, trimmed with crotchet braid, and insertion of the 
same trimming had been put in the band after it was made and marked. So 
that when each edge had been turned in to put in the trimming, the mark- 
ing was turned in with it, so that nobody but myself would have dis- 
covered it." 

This chemise, of course, must have, after being washed, gone into the 
unmarked pile, where L. found it* 

This class-mate told me that Louise was kind-hearted and strictly honest ; 
safely kept, and properly accounted for, all the funds that came into her 
hands while she was treasurer of the Adelphian Society. She never knew 
aught against her until this affair ; and that at the time these charges and 
reports came out against her, they looked so large to us all then ; but now, 
it looks so small ; it does seem hard to think she lost her life for it. The 
reader will see how this was made to appear at that time before the school. 

This class-mate does not think that they did all that might have been 
done to have saved her, as this bigoted faculty do, whose duty it was to 
have acted promptly to have tried to save her. Blind and self-willed are 
they who do not try to see. 

" There were also found," says Mrs. D., " a towel belonging to Miss 
Robinson, and another, unmarked," which Mrs. D. says, " L. said did not 
belong to her." One of these no one had claimed, the last we inquired 
about her things there. If they were not hers, then somebody had take* 
them. These were the numbers which we knew she had lost, although we 



THE CROWN WON BUT. NOT WORN. 79 

believe that she had several others which were not returned with her 
things. Mrs. Daggett gave as a reason how Miss Case knew the collars 
she took from L. were hers was, "because none in the college but three 
teachers had such a new-style collar." How did they know whose parents 
or friends of the sixty or more females there had not sent to them, or 
some one of them, in the last two weeks, or twenty-four hours, such collars 
as L.'s mother had done nine days before? "A handkerchief of Miss 
Straw's ; a pair of under-sleeves of Miss Hunton's." Mrs. D. does not say 
that this handkerchief was marked, or whether it was like the old one, full 
of holes, she told us about ; or whether it was like the nice new one which 
is missing from L.'s things, I do not know. 

From the pen of the claimer, I have something definite concerning these 
under-sleeves. From her letter to me, dated Feb. 6, 1867, I extract the 
following : — 

" I was very much surprised, as well as grieved, when, on the day after 
your daughter's departure, I was in the room with Mrs. Daggett and Mary 
Chapman, and Mrs. D,, from L.'s drawer, held up a pair of under-sleeves 
and said, " These I suppose belong to some of the girls." I immediately 
recognized them as mine. The above-mentioned articles were of my own 
make, and consequently the stitches were somewhat peculiar." 

These were unmarked, or she would not have been under the necessity 
of appealing to the " peculiar stitches " in order to recognize them. It is 
remarkable, that, with the loose practice allowed there, for the five 
pairs of under-sleeves which L. had lost, she had not taken in their 
stead but one pair ; and there is a doubt in my mind whether Miss H. was 
not mistaken in these, and that any of the numerous visitors to the room she 
had lately left could be induced to recognize, when such care was taken to 
exhibit articles, and u suppose they belonged to other girls." I have adduced 
before the public the statement of Mrs. Greene, respecting the lost and 
missing articles, to show that circumstances strongly sustain the statement 
which L. made in her letter, when she spoke of those unmarked articles' 
of clothing, and said, " As I live, I had no intention of stealing them. For 
every article I took I had lost one in the wash, and put those on in their 
stead, expecting before the term was done to find my own." This asser- 
tion must stand good and true unless proved to the contrary. Mrs. Greene 
purchased and provided almost all L.'s clothing, and had the best possible 
means of knowing what she had, and the description of each article ; al- 
though L. or her mother did not make all of these articles of clothing, and 
neither could tell about the "peculiar stitches" or hems of her garments, 



80 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

as L.'s whole mind and soul seemed to be absorbed in her school duties 
I think it is measurably pardonable in her if she was, as one student ex- 
pressed it, u careless about her clothing." She was not so careful as some 
about small things or peculiar stitches. I appeal to mothers who have 
children away from home to school, to say whether they do or not know 
about every article their children have of clothing. 

The fact that L. had articles just like the ones claimed and taken by 
others does not prove that these were wrongfully claimed ; but it does 
show the probable truth of her statement, that for every article taken, she 
had lost one ; and that others, as well as she, might make mistakes as to 
the identity of such under-garments. Through mistake or otherwise, she 
had lost numerous articles. If, through mistake, they were in the hands 
of other students, after the search, censure, and the representation of the 
" enormity of the crime," it would be no wonder or surprise, if the holders 
should hesitate to bring them forward, and subject themselves to a like 
suspicion and reproach. 

From a letter, dated Jan. 6, 1867, from a student who was at the Hill 
at the time L. left, I take the following : — 

" While at school, I did lose a number of things in the wash. I never 
knew what became of them. Mrs. Daggett used to tell me that probably 
some one else used to get them, and I could take other unmarked clothes 
in the place of them." 

To show that not only Mrs. D. tolerated this loose practice, but that Mr. 
Daggett was also cognizant of and allowed it in the gentlemen's depart- 
ment, I will introduce the statement of Mr. Houghton. 

" For the benefit of those whom it may concern, I would here state, that 
in the winter and spring of 1864 and 1865, I attended school at the Maine 
Wesleyan Seminary, Kent's Hill, Me. ; that I boarded in the college 
building, and was personally acquainted with Miss M. Louise Greene, then 
a member of that school, and can testify to her good womanly conduct, 
and great ability as a scholar. I would further state, that while there, in 
the wash I lost two articles of clothing, which were marked with the 
initials of my name in large capitals, which I never again received. Go- 
ing to the steward in regard to the matter, he told me he would watch the 
wash, and if possible find' them for me. Making the fact known to one 
of my fellow-students a few days after, he told me he had taken from the 
table, on which our clothes were laid after being washed, an article of the same 
kind, if not the same that I had lost, and that I might have it if I chose. 
I told him it was not mine, and I would not take it. But after some hesi- 



THE CKOWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 81 

tation I took it and went to the steward, and told him the circumstances ; 
asked him if I should keep them until I found mine. He told me I might, 
and, if I did not find what I had lost, or an owner to what I had, I might 
keep it ; which I did, and wore the same away. This is an impartial and 
truthful statement. 

" D. F. Houghton." 

Louise says, " When I missed things from the wash, I took ^ other un- 
marked ones from the table and used them." She does not speak, in either 
of her two letters, as though she had been there educated to consider this a 
crime or a l^einous offence. The same is true with respect to the ex- 
pressions of other students. "It is no more than others have done," 
says one, " if they could not find their own, to take what was left." 

I would not be understood as justifying this practice. No person living 
has stronger reason or more bitter cause to condemn and execrate the 
existence of this state of things than I. When clothing of all description 
was allowed in the wash, promiscuously and unmarked, from the teacher 
(clown or up, as you please) to the kitchen girls or help ; when no one was 
responsible for unmarked articles, and when no one looked after, to see 
who took the clothing, or what amount any student carried away ; and 
when exchanges of articles were winked at, or openly tolerated ; it seems 
hard, it seems cruel to us, that our daughter, after being drawn in by 
the existing state of affairs, should be made the scape-goat, to bear off the 
sins or errors of this whole institution. " They tried," she says, " to 
make me account for all the little things that have been missing through 
the term ; but I could not. I have not had them." Then there were other 
articles, which they did not find with her. 

I will now call the attention of the reader to that act, that mysterious 
" crime," as she calls it, which was beyond her comprehension, and the 
only thing which Louise felt that she was really censurable for. I mean the 
taking of that five dollars, and which she, on being asked, immediately 
confessed and restored. It is useless for me to repeat what I think and 
know about this strange act, this abrupt and hasty descent from her ever 
high moral, standing clown to an act of petty larceny. Concerning the 
money she says : " Some Satan hidden in my heart said, take it, and, before 
I could think, I stood again in 27. When I went in to Miss Church's 
room, I had no such intention in my heart." This was the firsj; and only 
act of the kind she had ever done. She did not need the money. She 
says, in answer to the question, "Had your father been close about furnish- 
ing you with funds?" "I have always had all the money I have 
6 



82 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

asked for." She made no excuse or denial, as is almost universally the 
course of those who commit crime, from the petty thief to the highest 
criminal. On being accused or arrested, they deny, prevaricate, and make 
all sorts of excuses. Look at the tenor of her letters, and the opinions of 
class-mates and fellow-students ; look at her daily walk, her acts or conver- 
sation from a child ; does the least appearance of a wicked heart, or a per- 
verse mind appear, that she should conceive and commit th.i^ act on the 
spur of the moment, unless there was some hidden cause operating on her, 
and beyond her control at the time, and beyond her comprehension after- 
wards? Those who are conversant with passing events, and with the 
history of the past, know there are cases where persons, seemingly harmless 
and sane, have been, as they have afterwards expressed it, irresistibly 
tempted to reek their hands in the blood of their best friends, and those 
they loved most dearly. Some are tempted to clestro}' their own lives, and, 
if prevented, and the nervous excitement passes off, they will relate their 
experiences as an awful temptation which the enlightened mind of modern 
days ascribes to natural cause. 

One of L.'s class-mates says, in a letter dated Dec. 28, 1866 : " I know, 
from her letter, that Louise took that money ; but I believe that, for a 
moment, she was under an influence she could not resist ; therefore not 
guilt}'' of an intentional error. The cold eyes of indifferent people cannot 
see this. Her letter I prize highly. I believe every word of it, and have 
not the slightest feelings but love and kindness for her memory.' , It will 
be noticed that, at intervals, about that time, as the term neared its clo'se, 
Louise complained of her head to her mother ; complained of the lack of 
the power of thought : " Before I could think, I stood in 27." In her 
affidavit Chestina says, "L. said to Miss Case, 'I feel so strange. I wish 
I could think, but I can't. ' " Again she says in her letter : " I think, 
maybe, I am not exactly as I used to be while I write this, for my head 
whirls, and I cannot seem to think to say what I am tiying to say." It is 
evident that Louise was aware that there was something unnatural and 
mysterious in the exercise of her mind. It does appear, by her last letters, 
that she might be conscious at times, or have some suspicion of the true 
state of her case, and true condition of her mind. " If I know myself, 
it was not the true, real Louise Greene that did this. She was trying to 
live an honest, womanly life ; or if she was, indeed^ drifting into disgrace, 
she never%realized it. That five dollars is a mystery to me. What pos- 
sessed me to take the money I do not know ; but I took it. The moment 
they asked me about it, I confessed it." In her class letter she says : "I 
do not know what tempted me. Everything that was asked me, I told the 



THE CftOWisr %ON BUT NOT WORN. 83 

truth about, as near as I could, in my distracted state of mind." Mr. 
Orrin Daggett, the steward, writing from Kent's Hill, Jan. 29, 1867, says : 
" Miss M. Louise Greene confessed to me and others that she went into 
Miss Florence Church's room, a few days before she (Miss Greene) left 
the school, and took, in the absence of Miss C, a five-dollar bill from her 
porte-monnaie, which she restored before she left." On the 8th day of No- 
vember, 1866, I was in the college office. He (Daggett) told me that 
some time in the da}- , on the 22d of May, he was called to the room where 
Mrs. D., Miss C, and Louise were to assist in the examination ; and, after 
questioning her about the clothing, — especially about two handkerchiefs 
she had put in the wash, — (they were, I suppose, the same ones before 
named : the old one with holes in it, with Miss Fuller's name faintly seen 
on it ; the other unmarked, attached to it, and put into the wash with her 
written list), — he questioned her about them all he desired, then asks her 
about the missing five dollars. He says : " The first word she spoke, she 
told him where it was, not denying a word. He asked her if she would get 
it. She said yes, and gave it to him soon after." It will now be seen that, 
in this matter also, her statement in her letter was perfectly true. 
It will also be seen that this whole affair was all the work of a few days. 
Mr. Daggett, in answer to my questions, said they had not the least 
proof, whatever, against her, — Miss Church accusing no one of taking it ; 
but they, finding she had a slight suspicion of some one, pressed her 
to know who that one was. She did not want to say, as she had no proof, — 
mere suspicion ; said it would be of no use to say ; but they drew it from 
her ; hence his questioning L. If she had been a bad or wicked girl, an 
intentional thief, she would have squarely denied all knowledge of the 
money ; that would have been an end to it ; and those who knew her best, 
would never have believed she took the same. From a letter by a school- 
mate of L.'s to her sister C, dated Oct. 24, 1866, I take the following: 
" Poor girl ! how she must have suffered ! She must have been insane, or 
she never would have done as she did. I loved her dearly. I presume 
you will never attend school at Kent's Hill again, and not to blame either. 
I blame the teachers very much in regard to Louise going awa}\" Miss 
Harriman, who has been brought before the public as one of the claimants 
of one of the articles which L. took in lieu of her own, while, in the 
charitableness of her heart, she, no doubt, would be glad to relieve all 
from blame, seems to be willing that censure should fall anywhere rather 
than on her unfortunate and fallen school-mate. In a letter, to which 
I have before referred, she writes : " Louise was a favorite with all. She 
was talented, and, as a thorough scholar, enjoyed an enviable reputation. 



84 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

All were friendly to her, bot'a ieacners ana students, as far as I can judge •, 
and that fact, perhaps, more than any other, made her wretched, and over- 
turned the balance of her active but sensitive mind. She saw her own 
position ill a worse light than others did." Miss H. did not consider or 
know who impressed upon her mind the " enormity of her crime," the 
hopelessness of her position, and the void and darkness of her " future ; " 
her great object to graduate successfully, the bitter disappointment of 
self and friends. "The faculty of the school were also deeply engaged, 
with care of government, and the preparatory measures for the close of 
term, and this very unfortunate affair took them entirely by surprise, and 
they may very likely have misjudged as to their duty. I know that 
when a fate so very sad occurs, with so many varying circumstances 
about it, it is usual for persons, in their deep affliction, to see faults in 
the management of the affair ; and it would be strange if some of the per- 
sons, actors in this scene, were not blameworthy. I have sometimes felt 
to blame her parents, even, for keeping her so long at school, and thought 
that her mind had been overtaxed with study, and had become weak and 
ill-balanced in some direction." 

Writing to us from Kent's Hill, Oct. 7, 1866, Miss M. I. Reed says : " The 
blow was so great that it stunned her. Poor girl ! She did not have con- 
trol over her own mind when she left." 

From one of her classmates' communications, dated Oct. 19, 1866, lex 
tract the following : "lam very glad to say that none of the class, to my 
knowledge, said they would not graduate with Louise. I cannot realize 
that it is our own Louise, that we loved so much, that I am writing of. It is 
too dreadful to think of. If I had only spoken to Louise of this, that 
morning ! but how could We ? We would believe nothing of it till she was 
gone. When we knew its truth we believed her good and true, but only 
suddenly tempted. No one of the class but feels so, and would have then 
received her with open arms if we could only have had the opportunity," 
In another letter of Miss Reed of Oct. 28, 1866, speaking of conversing with 
people concerning the guilt of L., she says : " All the time I was trying 
to make people see it in the light that I saw it. I have told this story to 
many strangers as well as acquaintances, and think all have said she could 
have been restored. Her crime was not a crime in their eyes." By the 
closing sentence of the certificate of the leading citizens of Peru, it will 
be seen that their opinion coincides with that of the students at Kent's 
Hill, relative to what was imputed to L. as a crime. They say: "While 
we freely and unhesitatingly bear testimony to the virtue and good con- 
duct of this lamented young lady, justice to her memory impels us to say, 



THE CKOWN WON BUT NOT WORN. • 85 

that, in our opinion, whatever unfortunate circumstance or occurrence 
might have operated, directly or indirectly, as the primary cause of her 
untimely end, it was not her fault or crime, but her misfortune." I am 
authorized by the friend who originated this certificate," and obtained 
the signatures thereto (the town-clerk of Peru), to say, that he 
circulated that certificate, and, with two or three exceptions, obtained, in 
person, the names thereto ; and that the idea contained in this last sentence 
nvas the voluntary expression of nearly all, before their attention was 
called to that point ; that special care was taken that this point should be 
fully understood, and that all gave it as their opinion that, mentally, 
through the whole affair till her death, she was not fully herself. 

Dr. Torsey, in that faculty meeting, told us that L. told him that her 
parents were hard, proud, and unforgiving ; that she cited a case as to her 
mother as evidence of the truth of her statement, which I know never had 
existence, except in her excited and bewildered brain. If she did this, 
we know she was mentally deranged ; for no child was ever more attached 
to, and tender of the feelings of, her mother. She had all confidence in 
whatever she said. The same could be said of her mother's feelings and 
respect for her ; and no person on earth can make us believe that she said 
aught against her mother, if in her right mind. She has entries in her 
diaries, letters, and other writings, all through those five years, speaking of 
and referring to her mother in the most tender, affectionate, and respectful 
manner. Her conversation with students, and letters to them, and at 
places where she has taught school, when speaking of home and friends, 
all tell of the unvarying confidence, regard, and affection for her mother. 
She devoutly loved and respected her mother. Her mother in turn had 
the same love and respect for her. There existed between them an unva- 
rying confidence and attachment. "We all looked up to her as one whose 
counsel and advice were worthy of consideration and respect. " O mother ! 
my mother ! " were almost the last words she ever wrote. 

Her appearance, writings, and actions, after Torsey's talk with, and 
her leaving the Hill, the place and manner of her death, are all indication's 
of the condition of her mind. Believing that a poem, written by her whei 
her mother was sick, would better illustrate her feelings, and would interest 
some readers, I will give it in full. 

"LINES 

"WRITTEN WHEN OUR MOTHER WAS DANGEROUSLY ILL. 

" Nay, Father, spare her longer yet, and let me go; 
I am not needed here ; and she, our darling mother, 
When i he is gone, who then shall guide 



86 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 



* The little feet, and teach them how too walk the path, 

The long, rough way, which leadeth on 

Through briars and thorns, and over giant hills, to end 

In life immortal ? When the wandering one, 

Footsore, and weary of the world's rough strife, 

The careless crowd, whose cold indifference 

Or callous selfishness falls heavily upon the sinking heart, 

With faltering footsteps homeward comes, — to whose breast 

Save mother's can he turn for sympathy, and feel 

Sure of a welcome ? 

What can ease the aching brow, 

And calm the throbbing nerves, like the soft touch 

Of mother's gentle hand ? Who, with patient, never-ceasing care, 

Prepare the soothing draught, or smooth the pillow soft, 

Anticipating every want, and never thinking once of self, 

Do everything that mortal can to ease the tired 

And peevish sufferer ? A thousand tender offices 

Which strangers think not of, a mother's heart remembers, 

And her willing hands perform. The erring child 

Whose feot, unhappily, have wandered from the straight 

And narrow lino of duty and of right, — who like a mother 

Can touch the hidden springs of feeling, and from forbidden fields 

Bring the stray lamb back to the fold again ? 

Nay, death; we cannot spare 

Our mother ! Ours is a loving family, and each is dear 

Unto the other's heart ; in joy and care we've ever dwelt together; 

But mother's love, and mother's care, is the keystone to the arch 

Of our home comfort. Sister, brother, friend, we love them all, 

Yet, when God calls them home, and we awake 

To a full sense of all the cares and sufferings they've left 

Behind, and all the peace and joy and glory of 

This heavenly home, 'tis not so hard to say, ' God, 

Thy will be done! ' But of our gentle mother 

Our selfish heart cries out, ' We need her most; 

Sure God hath other angels who can sing his praise 

In heaven ; others can be better spared to rest within the grave. 

Without her watchful care, her loving kindness, and 

Her charming presence, we all should be naught. 

We cannot spare her yet. 

True, we know that He 

Who died that we might live eternally, is able 

To supply our wants, and grant us needful strength 

In the hour of trial ; but on all the earth 

There's naught that's equal to a mother's love, 

And we are weak and feeble; so our hearts » 

Shrink from the trial hour, and so our prayer is, 

And shall be, ' Spare our mother ! ' 

"M L. G." 



Who believes that a female in her right mind would wander far into the 






THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 87 

lonely forest and there, all alone, stay and starve, or, in any way, put an 
end to existence? But in her last daj^s, hours, or moments (for none 
can tell how long she remained there before death ensued), no eye but God 
saw her ; no human hand was present to administer comfort ; no human 
tongue to soothe or speak words of comfort or sympathy ; no heart to share 
with her the anguish of that awful hour. There is no human testimony to 
show what her condition mentally was in those last hours, or in what 
manner, or from what immediate cause she died. If she died by her own 
hands, then no further proof of her mental derangement is wanting. 
Several years ago, under the pressure of poor health, with the loss of 
friends, she showed partial insanity or aberration of mind, which, no doubt, 
led her mind in a mysterious direction, not comprehended by herself after 
the shadow had passed off. I have referred to her condition of mind, or 
the signs of temporary mental derangement, the probable result of 
severe mental labor, combined with physical and nervous debility. I 
have ;not referred to this, her mental condition of mind, to heap censure 
upon those who dealt with her in her trouble on the Hill, making them appear 
more culpable in this matter. Gladly I would have avoided this, but 
duty to the character of the innocent dead forbids that I should pass over 
it in silence. As far as the responsibility of the actors in this cruel affair is 
concerned, I would willingly admit that she was rationally guilty 
of all she had been charged with, in as aggravated a form as those who 
have been interested to exculpate the actors from blame, by magnifying 
her misdeeds, have attempted to fix it, and there leave it with the sound judg- 
ment and intelligence of every lover of justice, mercy, and forbearance, to 
say whether, after the proof of her good character and standing through 
twenty-two years, spent in virtue's path, and after a prompt confession of 
the wrong, and full restoration, those who had a' knowledge of the state 
of mind to w T hich their rigid examination and the consciousness of the act 
had reduced her, were not responsible and censurable for the lack of feel- 
ing and fatal indifference that were manifested. 

I had almost forgotten to take notice of the charge brought against Louise 
of having in her possession a skeleton key. Dr. T. says : " For three years 
she had kept a skeleton key, opening all of the students' rooms." I have 
no knowledge that either he or any one connected with the institution ever 
stated that she ever used this key for any purpose whatever. Still, from 
this fact being made so prominent, the public might infer that she had done 
so : and it seems that it was so intended that the public should so under- 
stand it. Professor Robinson does not say, as T. does, " opening all the 
students' rooms," but u that she had in her possession, for two years, 



88 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOKN. 

a false key, which would open most of the students' room in the college." 
Louise, in her last testimony, says : " A skeleton key, given me years ago, 
I had, that looked as though I might have used it wrongfully. God knows 
my heart, I never did." 

To her sister she writes : " You know the skeleton key I have long had, — 
that told against me ; but after all I do not think they believed I opened 
rooms with it, for the purpose of taking out things. I certainly never did." 
It appears evident that, while they were accusing her of taking everything 
that had been lost through the term (as she writes), they accused her of 
opening students' rooms with it, for the purpose of taking out things. Or 
what does she mean by saying, "But after all," etc.? (after they did ac- 
cuse her of using it for the purpose of taking things, and tried to impress 
upon her mind that they believed it.) But she still thought that they did 
not really believe their own accusation true. 

I have before me what the receiver certifies to be a true copy of a letter 
from Professor Eobinson, of the date, and from which I have made some 
extracts. I will now quote further from this letter, and let the reader judge 
of the truth and the logic therein expressed : " With reference to the sad 
case of Miss Greene, and the reports circulated about Mr. Torsey, let me 
say, first, that Mr. T. is no more implicated in the matter than the other 
members of the faculty, and if there were any blame, it ought to fall equally 
on us all." (Well* if R. wishes to say to the public that brother-in-law 
Torsey's standing and influence is worth more than all the rest of this fac- 
ulty, and they wish to shoulder equal shares of his load, so be it.) I can 
only say, it may look rather hard for Mrs. Grover, one of the faculty, who 
said at the close of that faculty meeting : u That was the first time that she 
had heard the particulars. I would have been glad to have befriended her 
if I had known it." Was this fair or just to Mrs. Grover, who had nothing 
to do in the matter, and did not a w eek after know the particulars ? Was it 
fair to say that she was equally and as much to blame as Miss Case, who 
did all she could to accuse, convict, and impress the crime on my poor 
child, and left her alone the night before she left? R. further says : "But 
on reviewing the matter, even in the light of the sad result, I can find noth- 
ing worthy of blame. Had we known that she would have taken her own 
life, we might, although we had no lawful right to do so without a warrant 
from a justice, have put her in close confinement ; but even then, if she had 
determined to commit suicide, she could have found some way to accom- 
plish her purpose." Is this sound iogic — rational argument — or is it 
sophistry ? It seems to me the learned professor must have presumed much 
on the simple credulity of the person addressed to advance such Vleas to 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 89 

make his case appear justifiable. It is an argument better adapted to im- 
pose on female credulity than to meet the gaze of a reasoning public. 
Where is the school-boy, so dull and void of the power of invention, that 
could not devise some means to provide for the safety of a feeble, distract- 
ed woman, only for a few hours, without resorting to a justice warrant? 
But even that course would have merit, rather than suffer her to stra} r away 
to wandering or to death. And who would think of quibbling on " lawful 
rights" in such an emergency? "In the light of the sad result" we are 
told that had they known she would have taken her own life, they could not 
have done differently, could not have prevented it. Is this faculty willing 
to proclaim that to the world, to the fathers and mothers of this State, to 
those who send their children there ? Is that what you mean when, in your 
catalogue, you say, " Parents may feel assured that their sons and daugh- 
ters will find here a safe and pleasant home" ? I put this question square 
to you, Mr. Robinson : Were this 3'our child, and our situations reversed, 
would 3'ou, sir, be satisfied, after I had known and taught your child for 
five years, as you have mine, to have me proclaim to you that had I known 
your child would have wandered far away and died, and her remains have 
wasted away before you had found her ; and when you had gathered up her 
bones, and, in great sorrow and anguish, had laid them in the grave, and 
life had become dreary and tiresome on account of the loss of your dear 
one, would you be satisfied for me to proclaim : " Had I known all before, 
I could not have done anything differently, done anything to have prevent- 
ed so awful a result " ? You would then see 3 r our miserable, contemptible 
logic in its true light, and would be ashamed of it. Are this faculty, w T ho 
publicly announce the ability and talent, the intellectual capacity, to edu- 
cate and give moral tone to the character of the youth of our State, pre- 
pared to acknowledge to the public that they did not possess the power of 
mind, the intellectual energy, the means sufficient, to have invented, organ- 
ized, and put in operation some plan to have saved my child, if they had 
known the sad result of their neglect ? — that they could not have listened 
to the proposition and advice of Miss Reed and the desire of Chestina to 
follow her? That, in all probability, would have saved her. Professor 
R.'s argument is this to the parents who send their children to that school : 
u If the\- get into trouble, and are driven to despair by their own acts or 
ours, and we know they intend to commit suicide, we can invent no means 
to prevent them." The extract I have quoted was doubtless meant for the 
private ear, to be breathed from private to private, till the circle partook of 
a public nature. I place this acknowledgment before the public. If it be 
true, the faculty have the benefit of it ; if false, I am not responsible for it. 



90 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

But it shows my position well taken and sustained, that my daughter could 
and ought to have been saved. The idea is preposterous that she could 
not have been safely detained on the Hill till I could have been sent for.- 
Or, if Mr. Harriman had been advised, or, perhaps I ought to say, permit- 
ted, to follow her at the time he said he would, I think she would have been 
saved. From the fact that R. says they could not have detained her with- 
out a warrant, it is evident they had withdrawn all control over her, and 
" practically" expelled her from the school. Only nine days before this 
she asked leave to go up to Chestina's room in the evening, to see her 
mother and do some necessary copying, and it was refused her by Miss 
Case, when she knew her mother was there. The poor girl came running 
up the next morning, before she left, to explain why she did not come up 
the evening before, as her mother wished. This was the last time her 
mother ever saw her, and that writing she wanted her to copy will remain 
undone forever, as it was so faded that no one could make it out but her. 
They then could and did control her. But nine days after Torsey makes 
his miserable excuse. Robinson, in that letter, continues : " She said that 
she could not remain on the Hill. She knew that it was impossible to keep 
the matter from the students. No intimation was given her that she must 
leave the school, that she could not graduate ; but, on the contrary, Mr. 
Torsey expressly said to her that if she left, it would not be on account of 
any action of the faculty, but of her own choice." 

Mr. Robinson was present in that faculty meeting and knows that Mr. T., 
in giving us an account of her leaving, did not state it as he has here. He 
heard Torsey tell us that he advised her to go home. Will he, R. or T., say, 
that if L. had complied with this advice, and gone home, they expected 
her to come back and graduate ? Robinson also heard Dr. T. distinctly 
tell us that L. said she could not go home ; that she could not meet her 
folks. Why was she saying this to Torsey if he had given her no inti- 
mation about leaving, and T.'s telling us, that he told L. if she did go 
away he would hold her diploma and at the end of a certain time she 
could write him, and, if she did satisfy him that she had lived a good 
honest life, he would send her diploma to her? He, R., knows that he has 
misrepresented what Torsey told us ; also he has misrepresented what L. 
says about the clothing, in those letters R. had seen. Hear her : " If I could 
have had an opportunity to retrieve the past on the Hill ; " which shows that 
she desired an opportunity that was denied her. " ' Dr. Torsey informed me 
this morning that I had better leave to-day, * not expulsion,' he said ; ' we 
won't call it that, but I advise you to go home/ " And when Chestina 
asked him if she could not have stayed and graduated, hear his answer : 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 91 

M Well, no ; it would not have been best for her to have gone on to the 
stage." It was all fixed in his mind that she should not graduate ; and he 
speaks of it as a thing that had passed ; " have been," in the past tense, is 
his answer to her sister. He had determined the case in his mind, but 
smooths it down a little to C, and says, " It would not have been best ; " 
his determination is clearly seen in this answer to Chestina. Miss Reed 
says Dr. T., told me that when he asked L. what she proposed to do, she 
replied, " I want it kept from the school ; stay, and graduate." Robinson 
overlooks all those statements, and in the early part of this letter says, 
41 Miss Greene acknowledged that she had taken several articles that did 
not belong to her ; also that she had taken money." He has evidently con- 
nected the clothing and money together, so as to give the person addressed 
to understand, that she confessed that she had stolen several articles as 
well as the money. If he intended to state facts, why did he not say she 
had lost many things in the wash, and said she took those in their stead? 
In her letter, she sa} r s, " When I came to the college I brought many un- 
marked articles of clothing, some new ones, and when I missed things from 
the wash I took others, unmarked, from the table, and used them. But if my 
own had not come by the close of the term, I should have left those where I 
found them, in the wash." This letter R. heard read in that faculty meeting. 
She further says, in the letter to her sister, " For every garment I had taken, 
I had lost one in the wash, and put those on in their stead. I had no intention 
of stealing them." The reader can but see the gross injustice done her in 
this professor's statement. I have already sufficiently shown that, " her 
own choice," of which R. speaks, was similar to the choice she had years 
before of remaining in Dr. T.'s house, after he had said, " Miss Greene, 
you will please leave the house ! " Prof. R. further says, " As soon as Dr. 
T. learned that she had gone contrary to her promise without the knowl- 
edge of her sister, he immediately sent a student with the sister to Mr. 
Greene to inform him of the circumstances and to urge him to meet Louise 
at Lewiston. He had no idea, nor any one of the faculty, that she would 
take her life." I have already shown, by Dr. T.'s own letter to me, that L. 
never made the promise here stated. How " immediately " a student with 
the sister was sent to me may be seen by reference to the sworn statement 
of that sister. Louise left in the morning stage and reached Lewiston by 
noon, and it was six at night before this team started to notify me, 
although Miss Reed and Chestina urged immediate action, and stated 
plainly to Torsey that it was their belief that she would destroy herself be- 
fore night. A wilful misrepresentation by R. Would he have called, from 
ten in the morning until six at night, or from noon until six, immediately, if 



92 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

this was his child, and then sent twenty-five miles to me, which is thirty- 
five miles from Lewiston, making sixty to be travelled by private team be- 
fore I could get to where they knew she had gone, when twenty-fire miles 
by team would have taken them to Lewiston ? A more miserable arrange- 
ment could not have been thought of. Mr. Robinson, wofully misrepre- 
sents "facts," when he says, Torsey immediately sent a student with the 
sister to Mr. Greene to inform him of the circumstances, and to urge him 
to meet Louise at Lewiston. I hold the letter (sent by Mr. Chandler the 
student, who came home with Chestina) in my hand. There is not a word 
of information contained in that letter as to where Louise had gone, or a 
word of advice as to what I could or had better do to try to save, or re- 
cover her ; the word Lewiston is not written in that letter, neither did Mr. 
Chandler or Chestina bring or deliver any word from Dr. Torsey as to 
when or what we had better do, or that we had better do anything to try 
to save or recover her. The whole gist of that letter was this, — I in that 
long talk with L. urged her to go to Jesus, to you, and to her mother, and 
tell you all, and that you would forgive her ; and that Chestina will make 
explanations and give information concerning Louise. 

Had Chestina andHarriman, or some other persons been immediately sent 
to Lewiston, she very likely would have been found at the Elm House, and 
been saved. Or, had a team been sent forthwith to me, I might have arrived 
in the vicinity of Lewiston in season to have discovered and saved her. 
This matter of accusation commenced on Monday the 21st; and through 
to the close my daughter was in the deepest trouble and excitement ; and 
not until Wednesday, in the middle hours of that night, was I notified. 
She was accused on Monday, tried on Tuesday, sentenced on Wednesday 
morning, and advised to leave (expelled, they so understood it) and go 
home ; and before I was notified of any trouble, on the third day, perhaps, 
her troubled spirit was in eternity. 

Is there airy wonder that I feel aggrieved? — that tears flow thick and fast 
as I write ? Is there not a cause ? I have had four daughters for a longer 
or shorter period at that institution, at about fifteen hundred dollars* 
expense. Setting aside all claims, and feelings, and rights, even of hu- 
manity (religion should not be named here, for it would be a disgrace to 
speak of it in connection with this whole transaction), would not common 
civility, the honor and respect due from man to man, lead me to expect, had 
it been my clog, instead of my child, that I should be notified before he 
was unceremoniously kicked from that institution ? 

I placed her the 1 re under their promise that she should there find a " safe 
and pleasant home." I had a right to expect that those under whose con- 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 93 

trol I bad placed er, would be ber guardians, protectors, and friends ; and 
although " of age," tbat their protecting care would not be withdrawn 
until they had returned her, or notified me, and I had time to have readied 
her. T was responsible, and they looked to me for her expenses. What- 
ever might have been her crime, their responsibility and obligations would 
have been increased. She should have had time to have consulted her 
friends, and a full investigation had, before any intimation was given her 
as to what the result would be about graduating. They were bound by 
every consideration to extend to her paternal care and protection. 

Where, among my readers, is the parent or guardian, whose ward or off- 
spring should leave his premises, as my daughter left Kent's Hill, self- 
disrobed of everything of seeming value in life, — self-disrobed, as it were, 
for the shrine of death, — who would wait in idle unconcern and indifference 
for eight long hours before moving in any direction for the safety of the 
wanderer, and then move in such direction that sixty miles should lie 
between the loved one in peril and him who might seek to be the pre- 
server ? What parent would not have immediately followed in the shortest 
direction, to save from so terrible a fate, if possible? Would doubts of 
any parent, in such a case, influence indecision and delay? Should a child 
of any parent fall into the hands of a stranger for only a few days, in such a 
case, and he should not look after her safety, should you not consider him 
recreant to duty, and false to the principles of humanity ? Can you think 
of any sect of people anywhere, civil or otherwise, where she would have 
fared any worse than she did at this religious institution? 

It does seem remarkable and strange, while students were so forcibly 
impressed with the idea that L. would destroy herself, that Dr. T., or as 
B. sa} 7 s, any of the faculty, should have no such idea ! Appearances 
were convincing to students, and their logic was correct. A portion 
of the faculty, with the best of opportunities of judging and forming a 
correct opinion, discovered nothing convincing, to excite suspicion ; no 
idea, no fears of such a result. Before Prof. R. closes this letter, he says : 
" I know a great many false reports have been circulated about Dr. Torsey, 
but those who know Dr. T. will not believe them. I am glad that you still 
feel an interest in the reputation of the school, and of your old teachers, 
and that you wish to correct, as far as you may, these false reports." 

Then this is the object of your long string of statements, Mr. R., that 
you fear for the reputation of the school, and Dr. Torsey's, that you put 
forth such wretched misrepresentations and call them facts! 

How many important facts have you suppressed to damage my daugh- 
ter's side of the case, and to clear the faculty? He says, " Miss Greene 



94 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

acknowledged that she had taken several articles that did not belong to 
her." But he does not give her the benefit of the simple explanation, that 
they were taken from the wash, or that she had lost four times as many 
articles. Others quote from her letters to show her guilt and crime, with- 
out a word of explanation. Is this fair or just? They adopt these 
quotations as truth, to throw the blame all on her, and to exonerate the 
faculty, without giving her the benefit of her own dying explanation. 
And here I would say, that both law and sound reason will forbid those 
who quote from her confession, in those letters, and adopt as true such 
portions as they choose ; they are estopped in denying the truth of the whole. 
Prof. R. closes his epistle to his correspondent as follows, — 

" God, who knows our hearts, knows that we have no feeling of harsh- 
ness or severity towards Louise, nor of vindictiveness towards her friends. 
Our feelings were all pity and sympathy for her, and only pity for her 
unhappy friends." Thus attempting to give force to those remarkable 
" facts " which he had stated, by clinching them in the name of religion 
and Almighty God. 

The reader will judge of the pity and sympathy that were manifested, 
from the stern facts which transpired at the time. Was there much pity 
and sympathy manifested, after every means, seemingly, had been em- 
ployed, to bring her mind to believe she had sunk to rise no more, — that 
she had committed a heinous offence, that could never be forgiven by God 
or man, — to leave her in her own room alone, through that solitary night, 
to pace it in lonely wakefulness till morn, forsaken, as it seemed to her, by 
God and man? 

"I tried to read my Bible last night," she says, u but I couldn't. I 
don't believe I shall ever pray again, except to say ; Father, forgive me ; ' 
and he will not hear. The Saviour is an iron door, I think, to me ; shut, 
bolted." 

Was it strange, in her bewildered and excited state of mind, if the 
logical powers of those in whose opinion she had been taught to confide 
had been exerted to impress on her mind the enormity of her crime, that 
this idea should take possession of her deranged mind ? While she was 
thus walking her room alone, could those who, the day previous, had 
investigated, even to the linen on her body, to find the mark, and must 
know the deplorable state of her mind, rest in quiet slumber, and call this 
sympathy and pity ? Who would crave such ? 

" Mr. Schwaglerl said to me this morning, ; Remember your Saviour.' 
I have been saying it over all the way here." 

The only thing, it would appear, that had been said to her, which she 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 95 

could " say over," remember, or repeat. It was the only thing said to her 
for which she desired to return thanks. 

"I thank him for that, always. Mary Chapman, you tell him so." 

With all the pity and sympathy in their hearts, of which R. speaks, were 
there no kind words spoken by any of the faculty to soothe and comfort 
her, which in her mind she could say over in her desponding moments 
while on this solitary travel ? No kind words spoken by them in their 
pity and deep sympathy worthy of her last thanks? "Would she have 
forgotten them, and remembered Mr. SchwagleiTs only, had such been 
spoken ? 

Yet she complains not, nor speaks ill of any one. She was not in the 
habit of so doing. Her disposition was not to rail, or find fault with 
others. As a school-mate of hers writes, under date of Oct. 25, 1866 : — 

14 It seems as though words were a mockery, when speaking of our 
sister Louise, and the wrongs done her. I never heard her speak ill of 
any one but Dr. Torsey. Oh ! if she could have known what a wrong he 
would have done her, how much more she would have disliked him ! " 

It is possible Prof. R. might be right, asserting as a " fact," that he had 
no feelings but pity and sympathy for Louise ; but how he could assert 
understandingly, and have the assurance to call his Maker to witness the 
truth of assertions respecting the feelings of others, is not so easy to 
understand. He was not present at that very " private investigation," or 
at that long conversation T. had with Louise the morning she left. Had 
he been present at those conversations and investigations, he could better 
have judged their feelings and treatment of her ; but then it would have 
been presumptive to have asserted positively, with an appeal to God for 
the truth of his statement. 

If their feelings were all pity and sjmipathy, then I must say, they had 
a strange way of showing it. I cannot believe his assertions, neither do 
others. A correspondent, writing from Kent's Hill under date of Dec. 31, 
1866, among other things, writes as follows : — • 

u I have buried those that were dear as life, and it was hard to give them 
up, and consign them to the silent grave ; but God took them in his own 
time, and I have no right to murmur. When we have affliction come 
upon us in an aggravated form, it is hard to reconcile our minds to it. 
How could I? ' Woe unto them by whom offence cometh.' 

" My mind is the same now that it ever has been, with regard to your 
daughter ; that is, she was shamefully wronged by those that should have 
been her friends in the hour of trial. If her friends had all been as true 
as Miss Reed, there would have been no trouble, I think. Although I was 



96 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

not personally acquainted with your daughter, I have ever heard her spoken 
of in the highest terms, until she left the Hill." 

This was not an isolated expression of opinion among those who were 
conversant with affairs on Kent's Hill at that time. In a letter, dated 
Jan. 6, 18G7, I find the following expressions : — 

" I don't care what Mrs. Daggett says, I know" the students all loved 
Louise, — all that knew her ; and the old students that were at the Hill last 
Exhibition, did not enjoy themselves one bit, they felt so bad about her ; 
and many of them only stayed one night at the Hill. I don't wonder that 
you think so hard of the teachers. If it were me, I should be more bitter 
than you are. I am not afraid to tell any one that I blame them ; not even 
Dr. Torsey himself." 

In no communication that I had seen, either from students, or from any 
person living on Kent's Hill, or from any of the faculty, directed to me or 
to any other person during those five years, was one word written against 
the character of Louise previous to that sad affair. On the 20th of March, 
1867, Torsey wrote to another person, in which he puts in an insinuating 
slur about a report he says was in circulation about L. I, or the 
person written to, have not, from that day to the present, heard a sound 
from any other person about the report he named. This is the only 
solitary case where a word even of insinuation against her character, up to 
the present time, have I seen written ; or heard a word spoken against her 
character previous to the last fatal affair. This foreshadows what Torsey 
may yet attempt to do. 

As fear or favoritism is I think the ruling passion on Kent's Hill, it will 
be readily perceived, that while surrounded by this influence, and the sub- 
ordinate position, and the clanger of giving offence, many would naturally 
hesitate, before voluntarily giving expression to their real convictions. 
Yet, I find all the expressions of opinions that have been ventured, as far 
as I know, coming from students, with one or two exceptions, blame 
Torsey and the others that had to do with her in that affair ; meaning also 
to except that committee of students' actions, and those who really did 
indorse them. 

And here I ought to say, that a large portion of the old students who 
knew L. so well, had left the school, and many new and young students 
had taken their places. And, also, I do know, that some of the old 
students did not attend chapel exercises on May 7th, the night that those 
resolutions were adopted. 

This may have been one of the causes of Dr. Torsey's " pimps and 



THE CROWN AVON BUT NOT WORN. \f I 

spies " attack on Miss Reed, and his close watch after, and to see the com- 
munications she received from me. 

In answer to a request of the town clerk of Peru, for a statement of 
Louise's character, as she understood it to be at that school, previous to 
this last affair, for publication, one of her class writes as follows, under 

te of Dec. 21, 1866:" — 

14 1 would gladly comply with your request, if it would in any way 
benefit our departed class-mate ; and I am willing to do much to alleviate 
the sorrows which oppress her bereaved parents. Such a statement as }*ou 
propose may accomplish the latter, and it may seem a trivial act compara- 
tively in bebalf of her I loved ; yet I must refuse, at the risk of being 
misunderstood by so doing. Such a publicity cannot benefit poor Louise, 
and may reflect upon the officers and institution at Kent's Hill." 

She was not requested to give a statement of good or bad character, but 
such as she understood it to be. If that statement had been bad, it would 
not have alleviated our sorrow, and would it have reflected upon the officers 
and institution? "We have here by inference that it must have been a 
statement of her good character. I would remind this class-mate of that 
sentiment, " Truth crushed to earth will rise again." 

I will now notice how that " pity for her unhappy friends," of which 
Robinson writes, was manifested. While I was searching for our lost 
child, overwhelmed with trouble, anguish of mind, and awful suspense, 
absent from my family most of the time, which on account of this terrible 
shock were in a condition to need all my care and attention, all sorts of 
reports were in circulation, and continually reaching my ears, of what 
Louise had done, and what had been said about her at Kent's Hill, — all 
tending to disturb, distress, and harass my almost distracted mind, and 
that of my family. To know the truth of one of the reports in circulation, 
I wrote to Pr. T. as follows : — 

44 Peru, June 27, 1866. 
" Dr. Torsey : Sir, — Nearly five weeks spent in the search, — I can find: 
no reliable trace of her, our dear lost one. Is it a fact that Louise has all 
the way along, ever since she first came to your school, been thieving? 
Tell us all, I beg of you. It comes to us that you have said so. 

" Yours respectfully, Jonas Greene." 

The reader will notice that I did not ask him what he had said, but 
begged of him to tell us all the facts relative to her thieving. To this 
letter I received the following answer : — 
7 



98 THE CROWN. WON BUT NOT WOUN. 

" Kent's Hill, June 30, 1866. ■ 
Mr. Greene, — I have not made the statement you name in your letter. 
Have you directly or indirectly said we expelled Louise from the school? 
Have you in substance said, our reason for expelling her was because she 
would not join the church? Have you said that her taking clothing, etc., 
was named to the school at prayers, or at the table? Have you ever denied 
she took money? Have yoxi said she took but two or three articles of 
clothing in exchange for what she had lost ? Have you said that any of 
the officers of the institution have sanctioned the exchange of clothing in 
the way you say Louise exchanged ? Such reports as these may oblige us 
to state the facts publicly." [After stating the charges against L., which 
appear in an extract in the first part of this work, he closes as follows :] 
" She was not expelled, and no intimation was given to her that she would 
be. The matter was never alluded to before the school. 

"Yours truly, 

"H. P. TORSEY." 

He does not answer my one simple question, but catechises me in a string 
of half a dozen interrogatories, clinching them with a threat to make the 
matter public, in order (as I believed) to frighten me into silence. He did 
not answer my question (as it is seen by the mass of evidence herein pre- 
sented), as he should and could have done in four words, ' JVb, she has 
not." But here can plainly be seen, this sly, low, cunning, wiry, wicked 
man, in his true light. He takes this opportunity (in my greatest trial, 
weighed down almost in despair, tired and weak in body and mind) to 
make the most he could of this circumstance, and leaves it open for me to 
infer that he could say so (that she had been thieving all along) , if I pro- 
voked him. I commenced to answer this very pitying and sympathizing 
letter ; but some new information caused me to leave home again, in a 
hurry, to continue my search, and I did not finish it. When I returned 
home, I found another of those missives, directed by that feeling of pity 
of which Prof. R. speaks, which reads as follows : — 

" Kent's Hill, July 11, 1866. 
" Mr. Greene, — Is it true that you told Mr. White, of Buckfield, that 
Louise simply exchanged clothes, — her case brought before the school, — 
she charged with falsehood, and expelled at once ? And what story did your 
wife report, at Mr. Peiiy's, at Livermore? If you are circulating such 
reports, it seems to me unfortunate to Louise and yourself. You know she 
stole money, and can find no one that will tell you I ever brought the 



THE CKOWff WOK BUT 1SOT WORN. 99 

matter before the school. If 3-011 do not think any of these things against 
L. are true, 3 r ou can have all these and other matters pertaining to her 
character, or your relation to this affair, legally established or refuted, by 
bringing a case of libel or slander, followed on our part by a prosecution 
for malicious prosecution and for slander. 

" Yours, 

"H. P. ToRSEY." 

In former times, when my purse was open to the claims of that institu- 
tion, letters came from him to my address with some title, as is the custom 
of the day ; but these came simply to "Jonas Greene," — pity having dis- 
robed nry name of even Mr. prefixed. At that time the accusations against 
L. had been made as public as was the fact of her disappearance ; and they 
were exaggerated as they floated from ear to ear, or were magnified when 
first set afloat. To these were added in their circulation base scandal, vile 
insinuations, at which the very dust of my injured daughter might blush. 
This being the case, I could not conceive how the circulation of such re- 
ports as T. named, whether true or false, could be any more unfortunate to 
L., unless it was meant that I should understand that there was something 
worse to bring to the public ear than had been put in circulation by private 
tongues. This hinting at, advising, or threatening a double lawsuit, this 
talk about libels, prosecutions, and slander, while with aching head and heart 
I waa hunting day and night for our loved child, whose remains lay decom-' 
posing in the lonely forest, did not sound to me at that time much like the 
sympathizing voice of a pitying friend. Such friends you, kind reader, 
under like circumstances, would desire to be few and far between. The 
second and last letter which I have written to Dr. T., was in answer to 
the two which I have noticed, and is as follows : — 

" Peru, August 29, 1866. 
"Dr. Torset: Sir, — Your refusal to answer the one question I asked 
you, in my letter of June 27, puts me under no obligation to answer your 
various questions of the 30th of June. My whole time having been spent, 
from May 24 to the 1st of Juty, in search of our dear lost one, I had no 
time to properly answer it until I received yours of July 11. The spirit 
and address of those letters were such, coming to me in such an awful state 
of mind, and under such terrible trouble, — the terribly distressed state of 
my whole family, the pressing care of my family after being absent from 
them so long, — under such circumstances, I did not feel disposed to an- 
swer them then. 



100 THE CROW WON BUT NOT WORN. 

" I have not said you expelled her because she would not joiu the church ; 
never have said that the taking of clothing was named to her at prayers or 
at the 'table ; have never denied her taking money; have never named 
the number of articles she took in exchange. I know nothing about the 
officers of your school sanctioning the exchange of clothing, except what a 
student told me. I have said what he told me. I never told Mr. White, 
of Buckfield, what you asked me if I did. You say she was not expelled. 
What did you say to her about leaving the school? Did } r ou, or did you 
not tell Louise that she had better leave that day (May 23), and go home? 
An answer is requested. 

" Yours respectfully, 

" Jonas Greene." 

He (T.) has never answered this question ; its truth he wishes to evade. 
I have taken copies of every letter I have written him, at the time, and 
since he turned her out of his house, and the reader can see how much 
cause, if any, I have given him, that he should write me those insulting 
letters, before named. They can judge as well as I, for I have laid before 
the public all and every word I have written him ; and you can but bear 
witness that I have held my temper well, and written him respectfully. I 
desired to give him no cause, but to see how far he, with his malignity, 
would go. I received but one more letter from him, which was dated Oc- 
tober 29, 1866, after her remains were found, — his logic false, that she was 
going into the factory, running away, or going to other bad places, as has 
been insinuated. 

u Mr. Greene, — You and I are to face each other at the judgment-day. 
It will then be known who is responsible for Louise's awful death. It will 
then be known ivho is wrong and who has been wronged. In view of that 
day I again say, I in no way referred to the matter before the school in her 
presence or absence, nor named it to individuals. When Miss Case named 
the matter to me, I requested her to say nothing of it. I did not tell L. 
she could not graduate. I told her the trustees voted the diplomas, and I 
would be her friend in the matter. I spoke only of any time of her leav- 
ing when she had decided to go home that day. She was not willing to see 
you here. I had no unkind feeling towards her; nothing but deep sorrow at 
what had occurredi 

" Yours, 

"H. P. TORSEY." 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOKN. 101 

Whether this was intended as his letter of condolence to me, I am un 
ole to say ; but it does look more like an attempt to acquit himself from 
./lame, by base insinuations, and his denials of what all the circumstances 
and surroundings, with her written declarations, and other evidences, sus- 
tain, than sympathy for the sad and final result. This is his third written 
denial to me that he had not referred to the matter before the school, when 
I had never accused him of so doing, and had written him so. "I did not 
tell L. she could not graduate." What difference did it make to her 
whether he told her she was expelled, or that he said, "We won't call it 
expulsion ; but I advise you to go home to-daj 7 ." (A slimsy dodge, in- 
deed.) He here sa} T s, "I told her the trustees voted the diplomas, and I 
would be her friend." As much as to say, I will be her friend to try to 
obtain from the trustees her diploma. When he distinctly told us, in that 
faculty meeting, that " if she did go away, I would hold her diploma. She 
could write me in six months, or a year, and if she did then satisfy me of 
her good behavior, or good conduct, he would send her diploma to her." 
There was no trouble then but what he could do as he pleased with her 
diploma (which she knew was about made out before she left), which no 
doubt he holds to this day. Again he says, <i I spoke only of any time of 
her leaving when she had decided to go home that day." If this be true, 
why did he tell and repeat over again and again in that faculty meeting, 
that she, all in tears, told him (at his request or advice to go home) she 
could not go home. She could not meet her parents. As to his assertion 
that he had no unkind feelings towards her, nothing but deep sorrow, 
with all the evidence of his prejudice and conduct towards her for the last 
two years which she remained on the Hill, herein produced, I will leave an 
intelligent reading public to judge of the correctness of his assertions. 



HER PIETY DOUBTED. 

Dr. T. says that he had lost confidence in her religious character. If 
that is so, I can only say that it appears by the memorandum in her diary, 
her letters, and what she had told us, that she long since came to a worse 
conclusion as to his Christian character. She had long believed him de- 
ceptive and void of true Christian piety. His opinion might be founded 
on prejudice, as I have already shown that it existed. 

A school-mate writes to Louise, April 29, 1865, and among other things 
says : " The gist of the whole matter is, Dr. Torsey has found out that j^ou 
are shrewder than he ; therefore you can expect but little forbearance from 
the teachers. ■ The whole course of reasoning, when sifted down, resolves 



102 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOEN. 

itself into that." In speaking of the matter of religion, another school- 
mate writes : "lam glad you spoke freely with the venerable doctor. How 
much did he hear from others ? I read that part of your letter to my dear 
friend, Miss G. She said she thought interfering with religion most too 
much for him to attend to, especially on hearing her say she has taught 
fifteen years, and. had never heard of such school discipline." None but 
God knows the depth of piety in the heart of Dr. T. or my daughter. We 
can judge of the tree only by its fruit. The first evidence we have of her 
religious tendency, and Christian faith and hope, is a letter dated at Kent's 
Hill, May 4, 1862, addressed to her " dear mother," in which she speaks 
of the death of her teacher, Prof. Scott, in the most touching terms, as an 
excellent man, a kind teacher, who had suddenly passed away. She there 
unfolds to her mother, that she had for a long time tried to love and serve 
God ; had not had strength to publicly proclaim the fact ; but that she then 
had resolved to bear the cross. "I love God" (she says), "and know 
that he will give me strength to do my duty, and lean on Jesus, and pray 
God to deliver me from temptation, and keep me from evil ; and may I 
spend my days in his service." 

She afterward wrote her mother, asking her if she should join the class 
or speak in meeting, when she did not feel it a duty to do so. She said 
they tell her there that she could not be a Christian without she did so. 
Her mother wrote her that she alone was accountable to her God for the 
performance of such duties ; and it was not for her, or any of the teachers, 
or Dr. Torsey, to dictate to her what these duties should be. The hard 
things which I ha^e heretofore stated that some of the faculty had said to 
her, had so wounded her feelings that she could not consistently go to 
social meetings and take a part in them on the Hill. She said she had no 
freedom in them. At the first of the term, in December, 1865, her sister 
Estelle went to the school, and was boarding with Louise in the Packard 
house. This was soon after Estelle had made a profession of religion. 
As Estelle was getting ready to go to the first class-meeting for the term, 
she said to Louise, " Are you not going to meeting?" L. said, " I cannot 
go," and began to weep. She afterward told Estelle that the reason was 
that it was said by some of the faculty, she went to gain the regards of a 
certain gentleman ; and that one of them had said it made him mad to see 
her at class-meeting after she had said " darned fool ; " or at least she had 
been told that it was so. But still they were finding fault with her because 
she did not go to their meetings more. On the 23d of December, 1866, 
Louise and Estelle were sent for in the night to come home, which they did 
on the 2 rth, in season to witness the death of their youngest brother, seven 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 103 

years old. He was buried on the 27th ; he died the 25th. In Louise's 
memoranda I find, December 25, 1865, this entry: u At a quarter past 
three, A. M., God let him go, our dear mother's Christmas gift, to God. 
Mother has quite given up, and seems unlike her own brave self. 27th. 
We all went to prayer-meeting, and God there took away my cross. I had 
always dreaded speaking in meeting. To-night, for the first time, I could 
not wait till it came my turn, till the minister was clone. A new and joy- 
ful state of mind for me, truly ! I stayed with Abby to-night, and for the 
first time found strength to pray aloud. How I dread going back to K. H., 
where now I cannot consistently go to social meetings and be an actor 
therein ! I'm resolved to be an active Christian, out of meetings, with 
.God's help." Why she speaks of God's letting him go, was because he 
in his last hours suffered greatly, breathing so he could be heard all over 
the house, and it was relief to us when his suffering was over. That this 
record is true, as far as Mrs. Newton is mentioned, I will let her testify. 

"Peru, March 15, 1867. 
" I, Abby G. Newton, wife of W. S. Newton, who live close to Mr. 
Greene, hereby certify that Miss M. Louise Greene stopped over night 
with me on the 27th or 28th of December, 1865, my husband being absent. 
She (L.) read in the Bible, and then prayed with me, and talked about a 
Christian life and the future state: Her talk was of a high order, coming 
from a gifted mind. It made a lasting impression on my mind. This was 
the last time that I saw her. 

"Abby G. Newton." 

December 28th she has this entry: "To-morrow we go; and then from 
morning till night mother will be all alone." I did go with her andEstelle, 
on the 29th, to the Hill, and poor Louise never returned. December 30th 
she has the record : " Father went home this morning, but not until he knelt 
down and prayed with me. The first prayer I ever heard him make ; the 
first prayer he ever heard me make. We shall not forget them." This was 
all true ; she prayed when I was done. " December 31, Sunday. Sermon, 
P. M., on recognition of friends in heaven, Matthew viii. 11, by Rev. John 
Caldwell, of Hallowell. Every word seemed meant for me. I could not re- 
frain from tears. It stirred up nobler thoughts than I believed myself 
capable of thinking." 

As all her writings of which we have any knowledge or means of know- 
ing the facts therein written we know to be true, we have good reason to 
believe that all her other writings are equally true. As there seems to be 



104 THE CKOWN WON BUT NOT WOKN. 

a disposition manifested by her accusers at the Hill to attack her at every 
point, I have felt compelled to make it clear and plain that her memoran- 
da and her other writings were reliable, and that she possessed the power 
of memory to quote verbatim the language which she had recently heard. 
In a lengthy letter of several sheets, written to her mother, we have the 
substance of that beautiful sermon, referred to before, of December 31. In 
quotations written out from memory, in her copy-book, she has almost en- 
tire lectures written from memory after she had returned from the place 
where they were delivered. In her other writings she often speaks of things 
as they transpired at Kent's Hill. She there tells of a long interview and 
lecture from Dr. T., which I have laid before my readers, and we believe 
every word of it correct and true in substance. I believe the same of her 
last letter. I have before alluded to Dr. TVs telling us that L. said we 
were hard, proud, and unforgiving, especially her mother. I have no means 
of knowing the truth of this statement of the doctor, but must repeat, if true , 
it shows conclusively to me that her mind was in a bewildered state. No 
mother and daughter ever exercised towards each other more intimate confi- 
dence, love, and kindness than did they. I will give a letter, written by 
L. to her mother, to show, in a measure, her feelings. It was written at 
Kent's Hill, December 23, 1865, the evening before the messenger arrived 
to bring them home on account of the dangerous illness of her brother : — 

" Saturday Evening, December 23. 
" My darling Mother, — We had a letter from Chestina to-night, and 
after reading it I felt like writing to you. No mail can go till Mon- 
day. How I wish it could reach you to-night ! Estelle has just gone to 
class-meeting. I warrant you she won't forget the home friends. Wilma 
wrote us she had become interested in religious matters. She is young, 
but I think will be decided. Don't it rejoice your heart, mother, to see 
them all coming into the fold, to the tender arms of the Good Shepherd? 
If ours could become a united religious family I think it would help, in a 
measure, to do away with the difference so common among lots of children 
of nearly the same age. When I spoke just now about the children's com- 
ing into the fold, I could not help thinking that maybe the Good Shepherd 
would be wanting some of them up yonder, — would be taking them indeed 
and in truth to his fold. Ours has been an unbroken family, but it cannot 
be always so ; and if one must go, who better than the little one, the sin- 
less, for ' Of such is the kingdom of Heaven ' ? Dear mother ; you would 
not be unreconciled, unconsolable, if what we all fear shall happen? I 
have thought much about George Henry lately, and it seems to me he is 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 105 

going. I seem to have him constantly in mind, and more especially, with- 
in a few days, him and you. I don't know but I worry about you more 
than I do about him. Are not you. tiring yourself all out, mother, and pre- 
paring another sick-bed ? Are there none to whose care you can trust him, 
at least, a part of the time? Remember, mother, you cannot endure all 
that 3*011 once could. You must see yourself that 3'ou are by no means as 
strong now as } T on used to be. Your day of hard work is done ; you have 
had more than your share of it always. Now let the rest take their turn. 
Of course 3^011 cannot lay aside anxiety, but the work, the actual care of the 
child, should fall partly into other hands. Are not the people ready and 
willing ? Won't tl^ feel — or, rather, how will they feel if you won't let 
any of them do anything? Couldn't you feel willing, any way, to let at 
least Sabrina staj- with George H. some, nights ? I don't suppose you. realize 
how much 3^011 are doing, and how tired 3 r ou are getting ; but by and by, 
when the uncertainty is ended, if not -before, you will be the one needing 
care and medicine, if you are not careful of yourself. Do try and not do 
too much, mother ; and don't wear yourself out with worrying, for is he not 
in God's hands, to do with him as he sees best? It seems to me that I 
can have perfect faith in the result ; that somehow or other it will be for 
the best. Now, mother, won't you try and ; be a good girl,' as you used 
to write it in 3 T our letters to me ? I hardly expect you to answer this, but 
wish you could write. We are getting on quite well, and mean to make 
things last, so we need not trouble you for things during this sickness. So 
don't once think of that. I wish I could do something for 3'ou, but it seems 
now that the most we can do is to keep from making trouble. Now, good- 
by, dear, with much love from your affectionate daughter, 

U L. M. Greene." 

After she had returned to college, subsequent to the death and burial of 
her little brother, she wrote her mother as follows : — 

" Kent's Hill, Me., January 8, 1867! 
" My dear Mother, — I ought to have written home before this, and 
should if I had consulted my own inclinations ; but work seemed to call in 
another direction. Though it is only a week, we are quite well settled back 
into our old wa3^ of life. Only stud3 r seems tenfold harder than it ever was 
before. I find m3 T self away off, thinking such strange, wild thoughts as only 
those who have just buried their dead can think. It seems providential 
that for this and the past term my studies are so few ; for with the full 
number I could never in the world have got through. This past experience 



106 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

has made me fearful. I cannot help wondering what will come next. But 
I try to ' let the future take care of itself.' O mother, you should have 
been here last Sunday, and heard a real live sermon, that would have filled 
your whole soul with faith, and made you believe, what every one wants to 
believe, in the recognition of friends in heaven. Wasn't it strange that a 
sermon, especially suited to us, should have been preached to us just after 
our return? I wish father had stayed over Sunday just to hear that. It was 
worth coming here on purpose for. The text was from Matthew viii. 11. 
[She goes on to give the substance of that sermon from recollection ; but it 
is too lengthy for my limits. She closes with these words :] u I can't 
help thinking of two weeks ago to-night, and it unfits me for work. Good- 
by, mother. Write all who can to Louise." 

I have copied these letters to show the religious tendency of her mind, 
and the love, confidence, and affection manifested towards her mother, and 
her tender solicitude for her welfare. The feelings here exhibited were 
ever reciprocal between her and her mother ; and it is with me incredible 
that, in her right mind, she could drop so suddenly from her high moral 
standing, social and religious, so low as not only to commit a petty crime, 
but also to speak of that dear mother in terms of disrespect, to the very 
man in whose friendship she had no confidence, and whose threats she had 
so long dreaded ! She told her mother, in October, 1865, that she did not 
believe she should ever graduate. Her mother asked her why she thought 
so. She said, " I can't walk straight enough to suit Dr. Torsey. He notices 
little things in me that he does not in other students," and mentioned sev- 
eral instances. " They seem to be watching me all the time, and I am 
afraid that Torsey's prejudice has influenced the other teachers against 
me." 

The loss of our little son was the first inroad made by death in our fam- 
ily, and it was to us all, seemingly, a sad affliction, till experience taught 
us that burying our friends under ordinary circumstances was compara- 
tively a pleasure. This stroke of affliction hung heavily upon the mind of 
Louise, producing those " strange, wild thoughts " of which she speaks. 
While away from home, friends, and in combination with other circumstances 
and matters, the presentiment that she should never graduate, operated to 
bring her mind into the condition and state which I have before mentioned. 
It was the loss of this brother, no doubt, to which she alluded, when she 
said to her class, " This good-by is a thousand times more bitter than was 
the laying away of my dead." We, the surviving friends, can take up the 
expression and say truly that parting with her, under the circumstances, 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 107 

was a thousand times more bitter than was the laying away of all our pre- 
vious dead. 

Suppose, kind reader (if a parent), this was your child, your daughter, 
your first-born, whom from infancy j^ou had watched over ; one on whom you 
had bestowed your tenderest care in sickness and in health ; you had 
watched the expansion of her mind and the development of intellect ; and, 
with much anxiety and toil, had sought to store that mind, at home and at 
school, with useful knowledge. As time advanced and intellect expanded, 
you saw evidence of brilliant talents, and an aptness to learn ; j^ou looked 
on her with pride and satisfaction, doted on her as an affectionate parent 
only can, and looked forward with hope to the pleasing prospect when that 
intellect, that active mind should become matured and shine forth in the 
full development of womanhood. In due time you send that daughter to 
a literary institution, under fair promises of safety, for the purpose of 
acquiring a literary education. Term after term passes, years roll round, 
and you find your daughter making all the advancement reasonably re- 
quired or expected. As a scholar, her reputation rises as she advances, 
and not only keeps pace with her opportunities, but keeps in advance of 
them. As a scholar, the most envious dares not deny the meed of praise ; 
as a teacher, you see her successful at every trial, loved by her pupils, 
loved and respected by her employers and those in superior stand- 
ing ; you hear her character spoken of in the highest terms ; you hear 
her abilities extolled, and her disposition spoken of with admiration ; 
you see her, after years of anxiety and toil with books and problems, 
grappling with all the vexation and trials that lay between her and 
the goal of her ambition, with a zeal and earnest resolution which 
deserve success ; you see her diligent by day, and frequently through the 
lonely night till the still hours of morning, pursuing those studies, the 
consummation of which is to be her final triumph ; you see her progressing 
prosperously till within twelve days of her final triumph, for which she had 
so long tailed and for which j-ou had looked with anxious mind and high 
hopes. All at once the curtain falls, — the dark future lies before her, all 
her high hopes are blasted, — her character gone, — accused of crime, — a 
close search made, and the search pursued to her sister's room, and even to 
her own body ; attempts are made to hold her accountable for all the petty 
plunder or mistakes of the whole institution, and to impress the enormity 
of the crime upon her already distracted mind. No friend is notified of her 
situation, no friendly advice or counsel called to help her in her bewilder- 
ment to explain the dark " mystery" that shrouded her mind. Some arti- 
cles of common wearing apparel are found in their room, or in her posses- 



108 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOEN. 

sion, while four times the number of hers are gone. No explanation is 
seemingly heeded. She is adjudged guilty, and the verdict goes out to her 
companions, the school, and to the world. No friendly teachers call to 
comfort or advise her ; no room-mate enters for the night her apartment. 
Alone in her sorrow she walks her room through the dark hours of night, 
her brain on fire, while her mental thoughts, her very soul seems oozing 
from her eyes in floods of tears. The morning dawns ; and your sorrow- 
stricken child is visited by her tutor, — by him to whose safe-keeping you had 
consigned her. In a long conversation she is given to understand the pen- 
alty of the acts with which she is charged, and the reality of which she 
had long feared. As an opiate to her troubled and distracted mind, she is 
told and urged to go to God, and her parents, and make great and humble 
confession, thus making it appear as though she had committed a great 
crime. She is advised to go to God for that consolation, comfort, and pardon 
that was denied her by man. He, Torsey, has nowhere written or said, to 
my knowledge, that he told her he or the faculty would forgive her. She 
leaves the scene of this long conversation, in which she had been advised 
to leave that institution, divests herself of everything valuable, writes that 
her heart was breaking, and wanders off alone. This is known, yet no one 
who has' the charge of your child seems to care for, or moves to look after 
her safety. She [is seen in her soiled clothing, the same day, wandering 
and weeping among strangers. During the three days in which these cruel 
acts are transpiring, you are only twenty-five miles away, yet no means 
are taken to notify you that your daughter was in trouble. No notice 
reaches you until fourteen hours after the fatal journey is taken. You 
make all haste to pursue her, but it is too late. No more is seen or heard 
of her till nearly five months after, when her wasted form is found in a 
solitary forest. Kind parent, were this your daughter, could you feel to 
say that " in the light of the sad result you could find nothing worthy of 
blame ? " If so, then I would say that in my opinion, if you had to take 
our place, suffer (only for one month) as much as I and my poor wife did, 
no person would ever after hear you trying to excuse Dr. Torsey and that 
faculty from all blame. I care not what your religious sentiments are, if 
it were your case, — your child, — you would see and feel that a great wrong 
had been done her, and that those whose duty it was to care for and protect 
her until you were notified and had time to reach her, had wofully neglected 
their plain duty. Will Torsey say they were under no obligation to notify 
us ? Suppose she had suddenly been taken with brain fever, her reason 
gone, — would he have had no duty to perform ? Again, if she had fallen and 
nearly destroyed life, would he or his friends say he had no duty to per- 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 109 

form ? Would he have abandoned her ? In such cases, he would be held 
in law for damages ; but when her character was at stake, which to her 
was dearer than life, he could see no danger, had no fears, no immediate 
duty to perform. You would feel that morally, if not legally, they were 
responsible for her death. You would care not how high or low were their 
standing, — they should stand or fall by the justice of their acts. There is 
no religion in profession. By their acts they should be judged. By the 
fruit the tree is known. To do Clirist-like is Christianity. Does the reader 
see anything like his example and precepts in all their dealings with Lou- 
ise ? Tell me what siugle act of kindness have those Kent's Hill professed 
Christians done in pursuing to recover, or to assist us to find our child, 
their old student of five years. No, not one single act or one dollar can 
they show that they have expended in the search, or in any way to assist 
us in the discovery of the one for whose board, tuition, and books I had 
paid them so much. They never have offered to do the first thing in that 
direction, or, to my knowledge, have they ever asked or requested any stu- 
dent to assist us, except the one who came home with Chestina ; while 
many a stranger has turned out to assist us in the search, and many were 
the acts of generosity and kindness done and offered me in my long, 
lonely, and wearisome search, which cheered and sustained me on my sad 
journey. They will long be remembered ; while from those managers on 
Kent's Hill where I have paid my money, and have so sadly lost my child, 
I receive only insult and injustice at every turn. What is the cause of all 
this? What have I done to deserve such treatment? 

" I have but little faith in man. God is our only refuge in this great 
trial. He is merciful and good. ' His mercy endureth forever/ " 

On reading the following letter of L. to her mother, — which was over- 
looked, — I am tempted to put it in here, although out of place : — 

" Kent's Hill, Sunday, Feb. 4, 1866. 
"Dear Mother, — We received your letter last night, and will to-day ^ 
commence an answer, which I shall probably mail about the middle of the 
week. I was both sorry and glad when your letter came ; glad that this 
revival of religion was getting deeper into the hearts of the people, and 
spreading from neighborhood to neighborhood. No one can help rejoicing 
at this; sorry that for you, mother dear, there does not come peace, 
— ' peace like a river/ I believe it is waiting for you, — and not on the 
other shore, but here, right here. For those who are gone you can but 
feel thankful. I shall always think of our little one as a bright spirit, 
waiting just beyond the river, and rejoicing when he sees us doing bravely 



110 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

our Iiie-work here, and saddened (perhaps), if we grow too weary of the 
way, 'too impatient for the journey's end. You ask a strange question, 
mother, — ' What does one like me have to live for ? ' I should answer, 
1 Everything/ For your children. Do you want them obliged to walk the 
hard path your childhood's feet once trod ? Can you think of a sadder 
word for them than this one, -- motherless ? 

" For your husband. Needs he not you, temporally and spiritually, 
mentally and morally ? For community. You have means ; you have 
influence. Wherein they are weak, strengthen them, and, by so doing, 
you will gain strength yourself. Wherein they are wrong, make yourself 
able, by reading and thought and word, to right them. 

" When they have trouble, comfort and help them, and comfort will 
come into your own heart. Look not mournfully back upon the past, but 
hopefully into the future. 

" Oh, it's very easy to say these things, but hard to begin to do them ! 
Once begun, however, they bring their own reward, like every other good 
thing. Won't you try, mother mine, to turn your mind away from these 
sad thoughts ? — to come out of self? For it is your loss you mourn, not his, 
for his is gain. Not so much your loss, but losses, I should have said. 
I think I understand how this bereavement has brought all the others fresh 
to your mind, — from the mother who left you in childhood, down through 
the long line to your boy. They are calling you, and it seems as though 
you could not wait. But think who hold you here. By the memory of 
your own motherless girlhood, and the need you have, even now, of a 
mother, I entreat you to find room in your heart for your other children, 
— and a willingness to stay. 

"You are anxious to go, you say; anxious to leave us to — what? 
Do you realize what ? Can you imagine our home as a home, and you 
gone ? Do you want your children to grow up as Aunt Martha's would 
have grown without your care ? You are willing, ' nay, more, anxious for 
this ' ? Take it back, mother, unsay it ; you cannot mean it, mother. 
You might be willing for us all to die and you be left, but must not be 
willing for the opposite. 

"You used to be strong and brave. It is twice as heroic to be willing 
to live sometimes, as it would be to die as the martyrs did, — at the stake. 

" Don't pray for death, — but patience, faith, and strength. May you 
have them always and abundantly, is the earnest wish of 

"Your affectionate daughter, 

" Louise." 

The denomination in the interest in which this school is conducted, with 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. Ill 

here and there an exception, — especially their minister, so far as I have 
known, — have shown a willing disposition to clear Dr. Torsey and the 
faculty from all blame, and repeat the various charges and reports against 
my child. 

My wife has belonged to that denomination about thirty years ; and as 
the interest of that denomination is now to sustain their leading man at 
that institution, she sees that all her hard labor in taking care of their 
ministers and members at her home, and the funds given in that direction, 
are but of little account, when the reputation of one of their leading men 
is at stake. They have nothing to do to alleviate her sorrows, to heal the. 
awful wound, to console her grief, to defend the character of her child, up 
to the time she was accused ; no excuse to make for this one act of her life. 
They can repeat the charges against her, and insinuate that she had not 
been all right before ; while they abound in excuses for those who managed 
this sad affair. 

I will say to such, as Peter said, " God is no respecter of persons." 
To err is human; to forgive, divine. " By their fruit ye shall know them." 

And now let me say to all, that, as you have the evidence, such as would 
be sustained in any court, as proof that Louise had lost at the college in the 
eleven weeks which she had boarded there this term, up to the time I took 
her trunk and other articles away, over sixty articles, — four to one of all 
they have ever accused her of having ; and from the day when you shall 
come into possession of these facts, one and all, for the sake of truth and 
justice, when you hear repeated the charges against her whose tongue is 
silent in death, just say somebody had taken four articles of hers, to one 
of which they accuse her ; and that embraces five pairs of cotton drawers, 
the last wearable pair she had ; and that she rode away, and walked to 
the couch of death with none on, as she said, and which was proved by 
the discovery of her remains. And was there not some necessity for 
putting on others unmarked in their stead ? 

" I had no intention of stealing them ; if mine had not come before 
the term was done, I should have left them in the wash." 

O my God ! where is the conscience of those who took, and now have,' 
her last pair of common drawers, when the}- know she must have suffered 
intensely from cold for the want of them, as she lay dying on the cold 
earth through those chilly nights in May ! God may forgive them and 
those who so wickedly pursue to disgrace her memory ; I cannot, unless 
they show a different disposition than they have done. 

There are many other articles lost, which we believe she had with her 
at the college ; they are not named in Mrs.'Green's sworn statement; not 



112 THE CROWN WORN BUT NOT WON. 

having positive personal knowledge, they are not mentioned ; such as 
books,, stockings, handkerchiefs, and various small articles ; with a bank 
book, showing a deposit of eighteen dollars to her credit in a Boston 
Savings' Bank. 

Some of the lost and sworn-to articles were plainly marked, — and some- 
body knows where they are. Where are all those sixty or more articles ? 
Echo answers, — Where ? 

They at that college should forever be silent as to stealing, until they 
render some account of these lost articles belonging to my daughter. 
Why did they pursue L. to such extent to prove that she had, and to hunt 
up owners to claim, unmarked articles, when they will tell all, that 
they are not responsible for unmarked articles? And why did Miss Case, 
in violation of rule, put into the wash unmarked articles, and so readily 
claim and take from L. the same ? And why did Mrs. Daggett, the next 
day after L. left, go into L.'s and Mary Chapman's room with Miss Hunton 
and others, and take up an unmarked article and suppose it belonged to 
others, who knew that article was there before Louise left? There are 
dark spots all the way along. 

." Is there not a hole somewhere in that building where things disappear 
and are seen no more there "? as my wife told Mrs. Daggett, Nov. 8, 1866. 
Had we not lost enough there to be allowed to say that? We had 
borne and forborne the losses there in 1861, '62, '63, '64, and '65, in silence, 
for her sake, for fear of appearing small, and getting up a feeling against 
her. When we have borne all this without saying a word to them, it does 
seem too hard that no leniency should have been extended to our child ! 

As soon as we reached home with L.'s things, May 30, and found lots of 
her clothing and other articles missing, Mrs. Greene (as I was obliged to 
leave immediately to continue the search) , wrote Mr» Daggett, and notified 
him of the things she had then missed, so that he could look them up before 
that term closed, when all the students were there. He made no reply ; 
never answered her letter. At a later date she wrote Mr. Torsey that many 
of L.'s things were lost. Neither he nor Daggett, from that day to the 
present time, has written us a word of explanation about the same. In 
October, wanting some of L.'s books to send to Chestina, who was away to 
school, we wrote Miss Reed (as we could not get a word from those who 
Prof. Robinson says, " have nothing but pity for L.'s friends," that any- 
thing was there, or that they would ever try to look them up), and asked 
her if she would go to the college and see if she could find the two valu- 
able books, and ask them if any other articles were there. Mrs. Daggett 
brought forward two books, — 'but not the ones we wrote for, — L.'s Adelphia 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 113 

pin, with her name plainly marked on the same, with some other articles, 
to the amount of, perhaps, in all, five dollars. These are none of the 
articles sworn to, by Mrs. Greene, as now lost. Wh}' did Mrs. D. keep 
those articles from the last of May, until October, with L.'s name marked 
on some of them, when Mrs. Daggett admitted to Miss Reed, at this time, 
that she knew my wife had written for them, and asked them to look them 
up ? Any mother would be very desirous to know all about the lost one's 
things, under such circumstances. I repeat, why did she keep them, and 
withhold all information? What means all this in my daughter's first, fore- 
most, and fast accuser, — one who could call L., to her mother, an habitual 
thief, because, as she said, L. said she had been in the habit of taking un- 
marked articles, when hers were lost, to wear until hers came again? Mrs. 
Greene says to her, Nov. 8, when Mrs. D. said that L. had been putting 
drawers in the wash several weeks before, " Why did you not tell me when 
I was here nine days before she left?" Mrs. D. then distinctly said, in my 
presence, " We never mistrusted any kind of a thing until Monday night 
before she left Wednesday morning ; " and as Mrs. G. was blaming them 
there for the way thej treated L., and about the large amount of articles 
lost there, she said, " I know somebody is to blame ; somebody knows 
where the}' are." Mrs. Daggett whined out, " I had rather bear the blame 
nryself than have Dr. Torsey," and continued to say, " I have done noth- 
ing that I am- sorry for, nothing but what I would do again." 

Dr. Torsey tells Miss Reed, that he had no regrets when he went to Lew- 
iston, and to the place where her remains were found. S. R. Bearce, who 
went with him, tells the same ; that Torsey said, his conscience was clear ; 
that he had done all he could to save her, or words to that effect ; when he 
(Torsey) was the last person on earth who talked with her about her trouble, 
he leaving her alone, sending no one to her to comfort or assist her. As 
soon as he leaves, she takes off her jewelry, and some other valuables, 
hastily writes these words on a little scrap of paper, — " Heart breaking, 
dearly beloved, adieu," — then leaves the room and building, without saying 
a word to any one, hastily tries to see her sister, then takes the stage, flees 
from this man as from a tiger, and from the Hill ; flees from class-mates, 
teachers, room-mate, and all her friends on earth, — alone, shunning every- 
body she knew, — goes to Lewiston and walks to the solitary forest, and to 
the couch of death, and there, with a broken heart, far from home and 
friends, in that lonely forest, with no hand to administer to her, with none 
to speak words of comfort, with no eye to pity, save the all-seeing eye of 
God, she lays herself down and dies. In four months and twenty days, 
her decayed form is discovered. Who on earth could have believed that 



114 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

Torsey, who had been at the head of that school so long., had her under 
his control and care for five years, could have been so self-righteous, and 
so self-conceited, or hard-hearted, as to believe that it was not possible 
that he had made some mistake, neglected some duty, or in some way, 
when the sad result was known, had failed to do all he could then have 
wished he had done, or that if he had done differently, this awful result 
could have been avoided? Who, under all the circumstances, could feel that 
his conscience was clear, — that they could or would not have done differ- 
ently if they had known the sad result? Do the public believe their bold 
assertions ? If so, God pity them ! and parents should be cautious how they 
trust their children in their hands. • 

I do not know that I should doubt their assertions, after the manner they 
received us in that faculty meeting, and the letters I have received from 
Torsey, and what he said to Mrs. G., the cool way and manner of their 
arguments and appearances ; when Prof. Morse read her class-letter so 
coolly, not the slightest emotions perceptible by any except one or two 
lady teachers. I do not know about such persons having any- conscience. 
I scarcely ever saw a stranger read that letter without shedding tears. 
The very recital of the circumstances of her leaving to strangers, when I 
was looking for her, would often cause a sympathetic tear, while the lead- 
ing members of that faculty could so coolly treat us in our greatest dis- 
tress. Torsey tried, in that meeting, to find, out what we were going to 
say about her loss ; and when we were accusing him of prejudice and in- 
justice, he stamped his foot on the floor, and tried to stop us with this 
show of authoritj 7 , or to stamp us down. If he would thus attempt to ex- 
ercise his authority over us, 'we may well judge how he would be likely to 
treat our child if she made any attempt to defend herself. 

Torsey will not admit that she was not just herself, but tells Roscoe Smith, 
as he (Smith) says two weeks after L. had gone, that if either was crazy, 
it was her mother. I can only say to those self-righteous people, who 
have no regrets, and would do the same again under like circumstances, 
that they very much resemble a certain sect whom, in the days of Christ, 
he .called Pharisees. 

Where is the evidence that he was kind to her, or tried to make this 
trouble look favorable to her ? He says he was kind to her. I have no 
evidence of that ;' but there is evidence clear to my mind that he knew she 
was not fully in her right mind, when he says he told her if she did go, to 
let her sister make all the arrangements. What does this mean? Why 
attempt to put her under that much younger sister, who was a stranger 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 115 

there compared to this old student, if he believed her fully sane? Facts 
will creep out. 

If Torsey should say the school knew it before he did, would that help 
the case? Should the next in authprity — Miss Case, the preceptress, and 
Mrs. Daggett — proceed in the examination, without his knowledge, when 
he was there, and then let all be known to the school, before he knew it? 
No one would believe that, after we have proved that Miss Case and Mrs. 
D. went into his part of the house before entering Miss Reed and Ches- 
tina's room the day before L. left. One more point. Who believes, if this 
had been Prof. Ferley's daughter, or a favorite of Torsey, that he could 
and would not have found some way to have kept the matter private, and 
from the school, — saved her character and life? I have not a shadow of 
doubt that nothing but the will was wanting to have done that in poor 
Louise's case. 

A student writes me, under date of March 24, 1867. With other things, 
he says, " I cannot state facts, that is, positive evidence ; but yet, I am 
assured in my own mind that favoritism and partiality did exist, arising 
not only from sectarian motives, but other more trivial, but not less culpa- 
ble considerations. I say this in no spirit of animosity or fancied injustice 
done me^ for I have none, but as an unprejudiced observer ; was a member 
of the school five terms, and think I have drawn my conclusions rightly." 

Another student writes Mrs. Greene, under date March 1, 1867. Among 
other things, she says : "I lost a pair of good stockings. I think I lost 
those the last week of the spring term. Mrs. Daggett did not know where 
they went to, and I am sure I don't. Nearly all the girls lost more or less 
that they put into the wash. I never could understand why there need to 
be so many things lost. Poor Louise ! how much she must have suffered ? I 
have often thought -what my feelings must have been under similar circum- 
stances. God only knows her feelings, for I think no one else can. It 
was very hard that she remained alone the night before she left. The girls 
felt badly about it, but did not know it till the next morning." 

God and those who hold the skeleton keys only know — I do not — how 
much their skeleton keys had to do about their finding out her real senti- 
ments or feelings towards them, by examining her private correspond- 
ence, in her room, in her absence ! 

From one of her class I have a letter under date of December, 1866, 
from which I make the following extract : "I dare not judge the teachers 
of intentional wrong, though that some great wrong has been done I think 
none will deny. 

" It is very strange where so many of Louise's things are. There are things 



116 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

taken as supposed every term by the help, and was last term at the close. 
Louise Was very much loved by the students, with but veiy few exceptions. 
I think no one will deny that. I always loved her even before I knew her 
well, and since I've known her intimately I've counted her among my 
dearest friends. Louise was a true friend, and had the kindest, most 
sympathizing heart of any girl I knew. We always sought her in trouble or 
sorrow. Her life was full of sympathy and care for those around her." 

In another letter from an old student, she says, writing to Mrs. Greene 
from Kent's Hill, October 7, 1866 : " I talked with Mary Chapman : she 
says it makes her mad to hear a word said against Louise-, and she did not 
think she had any evil .intentions, only was careless about looking after 
her own clothing." (This writer continues :) " I cannot see why. any one 
should try to hurt Louise's character, for she was very particular in regard 
to her gentleman associates. She always selected those who had the best 
standing in school. I have heard that repeated time and again, by those 
that were well acquainted with her. She is wronged when it is said of 
her she had not an unspotted character. Do not think I say these things 
because I am writing to you ; it is what I say to all, and what I sincerely 
believe." 

Mary Chapman writes me, from which I make the following extract. 
Speaking of Louise * before her body was found : " I pity her from the 
bottom of my heart, and gladly, oh, so gladly ! would I again take her 
into my confidence and love her as before. I always treated her as a 
sister ; in fact, she took the place of one to me, and a kind and good one 
she was." 

Do students go, or are they sent, to Kent's Hill to build up that religious 
denomination? This may be the object for which some are sent there, but 
it is no part of the purpose for which many students go there. To get an 
education is the great object ; this is what the State has endowed colleges^ 
and academies for. This institution has received large amounts in land 
and money from the State. In 1827, it received one half township of 
land, and subsequently, at seven different times, it has received from the 
State eighteen thousand six hundred dollars. Who gets the benefits of this 
more than twenty thousand dollars from the people of the State? Do the 
students get the benefit of it ? Nothing but the chance to attend that school 
by paying well for all they get there. Does not this twenty thousand dol- 
lars put them under some obligations to the public to guard, protect, and 
take good care of all the students who are entrusted to their care? and no 
artifice or dodge of Dr. T. will excuse him by saying a student is of age. 
That faculty is under every obligation, legal, moral, and religious, to im- 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 117 

partially teach, protect, and defend the rights of every student, of whatever 
name age, sect, or color, whom they have or shall receive into their school ; 
and he who for any cause, holding such a responsible position, allows his 
prejudice to prevent an impartial performance of all his duties, has for- 
feited all claim to public confidence, or the respect of individuals. 

Will Dr. T. yet say that he left it to her about leaving? It looks as 
though he means to. say that by and by, by what he wrote me in October 
1866 : "I spoke only at any time of her leaving, when she had decided to 
go home." All who know that man and the authority he exercises on the 
Hill (and L. knew it well) , know he is not in the habit of leaving much to 
the student to decide ; no, not he, by no means ; he is one whose actions 
show that he believes he was born to command, and all the right students 
have is to obey. In proof of this I will here let some students speak for 
themselves, and here I would call the attention of that wise and knowing 
committee of students, to see how much they knew what their Rev. H. P. 
Torsey, LL. D., the President, had or had not done. They seem to think, 
as it looks to me in their, article of about two-thirds of a column in the 
Farmer, that the repeating of the title President, which they have done ten 
times in that communication, with Rev. and LL. D. sometimes attached, 
would be a clincher, and the public must take all they have resolved and 
said to clear Torsey, as true ; as they would believe him to be a mighty big 
and powerful man. 

From a letter to me from a student dated May 7, 1867, I make the fol- 
lowing extracts : — 

" Your daughter was a kind friend of mine during my stay at Kent's 
Hill, and her conduct towards all exemplary. During a recitation in read- 
ing under Prof. Torsey, I laughed at something the professor said, and 
another student laughed, too. Prof. Torsey said, ' Stop laughing immedi- 
ately,' and we could not. Instead of correcting us as a gentleman, for I 
grant we did wrong, not intending it for impudence but merely because we 
could not control ourselves, he took the other student (she gives her 
name) by the ear and pulled her to a front seat, and took the back of the 
book and knocked me in the face with it several times ; this he did befora 
a class of ladies and gentlemen. He never spoke one kind word to me 
during my stay ; his only spirit towards me was a domineering one. He 
governed by fear, not by love. This the other student certainly will tell 
you was done, if she says anything about it ; " and then she gives me the 
reason why she thinks the other student might not like to say anything 
about the matter. She then continues and sa}-s : "But there is a just 
God, who will certainly bring the one who caused your grief to a higher 



118 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

tribunal than an earthly one." She offers to make oath to the truth of this 
statement. 

In another letter, dated June 19, 1867, the writer says : " I think Mr. 
Torsey is a good teacher, as far as his scholarship extends ; and, were it 
not for his strong prejudices, he would be a good disciplinarian. He 
is a man to be feared more than respected. He has a facility of ap- 
pearing very religious, and will make a favorable impression upon a man 
who sees but one side of him. Bat the man who knows him as thoroughly 
as I know him will not be disposed to speak ^ of him in favorable terms. 
Mr.. Torsey rna}r be a Christian, but I have for years prayed that 1 might 
have a different kind of religion. The seminary folks' meeting held at 
the seminary, and the action there taken did not change my mind at all 
about the matter. I was with them so long, that I understand how those 
meetings are got up. The hand that moves the whole thing is not seen 
by the undiscerning. ,, 

I have just received a letter, dated July 22, 1867, in which the writer 
says : "I lost my wallet with its contents the latter part of the spring 
term. It was taken out of my room (which was left unlocked) some time 
during the night. I have not found out anything about it yet. The wallet 
contained about $700 in money. I remember at the time hearing of a 
number of the students who lost money and other articles." 

This student, at the time he lost his money, was boarding in the college 
building. It is a well-known fact, when they choose £o keep those things 
private, that they have a good faculty to do so ; hence the school and the 
public know but very little about this student, or Miss Grover losing 
money, or the other students losing money and other articles, as this 
student sa}^, at that term. 

In another letter, dated June, 1867, an old student, — one who has 
been there for years, and had boarded in the college ; a student of good 
sound judgment ; one who had as good a chance as any to judge cor- 
rectly ; who was there when L. left, — says : " Dr. Torsey's authority in the 
school, I think, is unlimited. But this is my opinion, and, I think, is the 
opinion of nearly every student of the Hill, that whatever measure Dr. 
Torsey thought best to adopt, the faculty would unhesitatingly agree with 
him. As to what course they would have pursued in regard to Louise, if 
she had remained, I am not prepared to say, further than this, — I do not 
think they would have allowed her to graduate." 

I have quoted from this letter to show what everybody conversant on 
the Hill knows to be true (although Torsey may say the ' trustees voted 
the diplomas ; he may say this, that, or the other for an excuse that he 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOR*. 119 

did not know what the faculty would do), that Torsej^'s power is unlimited, 
in or out of the school, in regard to everything pertaining to the whole 
arrangement. He had the whole power in his own hands, and could and 
did do just as he pleased with my poor girl. Had he adopted a course 
which would have saved her, it would have been sanctioned aud agreed to 
by the other members of the facult}^. 

At the bottom of one of the letters from which I have made quotations 
I find the following : — 

"P. S. — A sly, subtle, vindictive person can do almost anything to carry 
his point, under the cloak of religion, and, at the same time, be sustained 
by a clique or sect." 

This is exactly my opinion of the man ; and, if my poor girl was living, 
she would say that his treatment of her had proved him to be such a man. 
Having quoted largel} r from letters and other writings, without giving the 
writers' names, in most cases unnecessary to the public, I wish for all who 
shall read it, fully to understand that I have, in every case, quoted the 
exact language of all, both letters and other writings ; and that I have and 
shall keep each and all on file ; and that I have not made a quotation 
from a single letter marked private or confidential. 

Will Dr. T., or any who dealt with her, yet come out openly and attack 
her previous good character ? It would seem rather strange and incredible 
for Torse3 T , or any other member ' of the faculty, the steward or his 
wife, at this late dajr, to make any such attempt ; when, during all 
those live years, with my other three daughters, who have been there 
from one to two terms each, while I or Mrs. Greene have been on the 

Hill, to take them to, from, and to see to them there, from six to ten times 

• 

yearly, stopping from one to three clays each, — and one time Mrs. G. was 
there over three weeks, during the sickness of two of the girls, — no 
complaint had ever reached us from Torsey, any other member of the 
faculty, the boarding-master or his wife, that Louise or the other girls had 
been remiss in lessons, disobeying rules of the school, or in any way that 
they had behaved unbecoming as students at their school. No, not a 
word of complaint had ever reached us from them by any other person or 
student but what all four- of our girls were well-behaved at the Hill, until 
twelve o'clock at night, May 23, 18G6, and, like a thunderbolt, that report 
struck us to the heart ! None can tell the awful shock but those who 
received it. It will ill become them ' at this late day' to complain to the 
public, while during those five years they could find nothing worthy of the 
least complaint to her parents, who should have been informed and con- 
sulted at the time if she was at fault. In view of all the evidence of her 



120 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

good standing at home and elsewhere, and the absence of any complaints 
against her up to this time, I will let the public draw their own conclu- 
sions, only saying, that, although they tried to make her account for all 
the little things lost daring the term up to the time she left, they 
canuot hold her responsible for Mrs. G-rover's money, which they pursued 
and took from Miss M. ; also, the wallet and money of Mr. Gower, a 
student ; a music-book, and lots of hats, and other things, which were lost 
there soon after Louise left. 

Dr. Torsey admits to us in that faculty meeting one fact, which all who 
knew her will endorse, when he says, "Your efaughter, although in rags, with 
her open and frank countenance, and her lady-like manners, will find friends 
wherever she goes ; any one will take her in " (he should have excepted 
himself) . This shows at once that deception or dishonesty was no part of 
her nature. It is not strange, therefore, that she should be misunderstood 
and misjudged by those who we believe have practised deception, and 
understood that art so long and well. An eminent writer has said, " What 
the world wants is not honesty, but acquiescence." Without fully subscrib- 
ing to that sentiment, that idea has been plainly illustrated, I think, on 
Kent's Hill. Acquiescence in the decision and opinions of the faculty 
would have covered a multitude of sins. 

* Louise knew full well their power and disposition to crush all who should 
attempt to say anj^thiug in palliation or excuse for her, as she wrote to her 
sister, " It will be useless for you to say anything in excuse or palliation ; 
it will break you down ; bend beneath it." She foresaw the course they 
would pursue towards her sister if she tried to defend her ; she knew how 
they had pursued her about hearsays and little things. She would, doubt- 
less, if she could, say to her parents, for any defence y ou may make for me, 
that faculty will'pursue, harass, and try to break 3 r ou clown. It has been 
said that the article written by one of the officiating clergymen at 
her funeral, who was assisted by a prominent citizen of Peru, and pub- 
lished in the " Loyal Sunrise" of Nov. 23, 1866, was untrue, and the position 
therein assumed, in saying "her enemies were relentless," was wrong. 
I can only say that those gentlemen had access to all the communications 
between Dr. T., nryself, Louise, her writings, and various letters from her 
class, and other students, and that they came to the conclusion that such 
a course as all this indicated towards her and her family did not look like 
the actions of friends. I will state, for the information of the facult}^, trus- 
tees, and that committee of students, that neither I nor any member of my 
family knew anything about the article that appeared in the " Sunrise " of 
January 11, 1867. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 121 

Let me recapitulate and sum up' some of their proceedings, and the treat- 
ment Louise, her sister, and her parents have received at the hands of this 
faculty and those under them, and then judge whether this is the action of 
friends or enemies. 

Monday night they say something to her about the clothing. Tuesday 
Mrs. Daggett and Miss Case enter, unbeknown, and search their room, 
then go into an examination. She explains. They closely search and 
open all her things ; that little fancy box or trunk, holding about a quart, 
could not be exempted. The}^, when exhausted in their accusations, call 
in Mr. Daggett to assist them. She frankly tells them all the whole truth, 
as she sa^-s in her class letter : " I told them the truth as near as I could in 
my distracted state of mind." She did not deny a word, — refunds. But 
these, some sa} T , friends were not content ; they must disgrace her sister, 
also. The}* proceed up to and into Dr. T.'s part of his house (as I sup- 
pose, to report progress, and to get further instructions), then enter Ches- 
tina's and Miss Reed's room. They tell her L.'s confession and all, repre- 
sent that she had lots of marked and unmarked articles in her room, trunk, 
and drawer, and say what an aw T fui thing it is ; then ask to, and search her 
trunk and all her things. Are they content? Not 3^et. They ask her if 
there is not another trunk kept there. Was this not trying to make them 
or L. account for all the articles lost at this term? Was this like the action 
of friends to my girls, without knowledge to me, and without authority, to 
enter Miss Reed's and my daughter's room, — a room as sacred to them ; a 
room where the}' had rights as well as you, kind reader, have in your own 
quiet domicile, where no ruthless hand has a right, without due process of 
law, to enter and overhaul at will? They may say that they asked leave 
of these students to do this, that, or the other thing. What students would 
dare to deny under such circumstances? They find nothing, but tell her 
sister all in the worst form. Mr. Chandler, who comes home with C. that 
night, knows it all in an exaggerated form, as told by Miss Case and D. 
Mr. Swagles, a boarder with Dr. T., tells L. he knows all, Wednesday, on 
the stage. They leave her alone that night, although Miss Daggett and 
three lady teachers board in the same building. They have no friendly 
word to say to her, no advice to give. They do not approach her lonely 
room to see if she does not desire some friendly act, some friend sent for 
to read or pray with her. They all knew she was in trouble. Was it be- 
cause they were afraid they should displease Dr. T., or was it, as he said, 
because " she was under censure"? Would it disgrace them? Do the 
teachings of Christ appear in those professed followers? She, as it 



122 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

were, with her brain on fire, walks her lonely room through that night. She 
writes in her letter the next day : "I tried to read my Bible last night, but 
could not," thus showing a partial derangement, a wretched state of mind. 
Does this look like the action of Christians or friends in those who had 
known her so long ? Torsejr takes her alone the next morning, and has a 
long conversation with her. He appeals to her to know what she wants 
done. She says : " I want it kept from the school, — to stay and graduate." 
He tells her the school knew it ; that she had better leave that day. Will 
he deny this? He tells Miss Reed so, and that L. farther said, "If she 
could not graduate, there was no future for her." He tells Chestina "it 
would not have been best for her to have gone on to the stage," etc. If he 
had not desired her to leave, or if he had wanted her to have graduated or 
been willing for her to, would he have answered Chestina as he did ? Would Le 
have said it would not have been best for her to have gone on to the stage ? 
She would have been pointed out as the girl that stole. He could not help . 
letting it out to her sister that he meant everybody should know her con- 
fession about the money. If he had desired her to have stopped and grad- 
uated, his answer to C. would have been : Yes ; she could have graduated. 
I wanted her to, and if we can get her back, she can now. In two weeks 
after she left, he tells Roscoe Smith, who lived then near me, as he (Smith) 
tells me in the presence of others, that Torsey told him in presence of others, 
that whenL. madeithe request to have it kept from the school, and she stay and 
graduate, he told her the school knew it. She writes soon as she leaves 
the Hill, after failing to see her sister before she left, that Dr. Torsey " in- 
formed me this : that I had better leave to-day. ' Not expulsion,' he said ; 
4 we won't call it that ; but I advise you to go home.' Practically, is 
amounts to the same thing, however. How I feel, God only knows ; you 
never can," etc. Mr. Smith further said that Dr. T. told him and others, 
at the time above referred to (he then pretended to think she was living), 
all about her confession, and other things in that last and private conver- 
sation, and further said if either was crazy, it was her mother. With the 
letters he has written me, does the reader see any friendly hand in all those 
proceedings? Will any parent believe for a moment, if this was their case, 
their child, that all those proceedings Were the acts of friends? Would 
friends have reported her private confession to disgrace her ? She had done 
all she could to deserve forbearance. In God's name were they not doing 
all they could to chagrin and mortify her sister in the house of the princi 
pal of this school, — to disappoint, distract, and break the heart of L. ? Does 
that long string of written misrepresentations of Professor Robinson, which 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOEN. 123 

he calls facts, look like the actions of a friend ? He says : "At the request 
of the faculty Mr. Torsey called to see Miss G. and talk with her about the 
matter." He does not say why or what they requested him to see or talk 
with her about. Again he says: "No intimation- was given her that she 
must leave the school, — that she could not graduate. Mr. Torsey expressly 
said to her that if she left, it would not be on account of any action of the 
faculty." (What whoppers !) Does any one believe she was seeking to 
leave in disgrace? See the sworn statements of Miss Iieed, C. S. Greene, 
Louise's letter, Mr. Smith's statement. Query : For what did the faculty 
request T. to call to see L. ? She had confessed, explained all, refunded 
the monej-. She had but two weeks longer to remain. She was feeling bad 
enough. If she was the bad girl they now would have people believe, did 
they expect to reform her in two weeks, if no intimation was to be given 
her about leaving, or that she could not graduate ? I repeat, why did the 
faculty request him to call and talk with her about the matter? Oh, could 
she speak, then we should know what further he said to her, — what the fac- 
ulty sent him to her for other than advising her to leave that day, and say- 
ing " we won't call it expulsion." (It is expulsion, but I will deceive, 
dissemble, withhold the real fact, won't call it what it is, what you and I 
understand it to be.) Why is all this prevarication? All this does not 
look like the actions of friends. To me and to my family it looks like the 
doings of some unfriendly hands, enemies, and relentless ones, too. Would 
a friend have written me as Dr. T. did, June 30, 1866, — not answering my 
one question, but putting a half dozen insulting questions to me, and 
then adding this threat, " Such reports as these may oblige us to state the 
facts publicly " ? 

Again he writes me, July 11, 1866, again asking questions about flying 
reports of what he has heard that I and Mrs. Greene have said to certain 
persons, and then acids, " You know she stole money and can find no one 
that will tell you I erer brought the matter before the school." And then 
advising a double lawsuit in those words, " By bringing a case of libel or 
slander, followed on our part by a prosecution for malicious prosecution* 
and for slander." Had I given him any cause for those insulting letters ? 
The reader can judge, as I have laid before them every letter and word I 
have written him since L. left, they being only two in all ; and I have kept 
a copy of all the letters I have written him since Louise first weiit to that 
school. I know whereof I speak, and that I have not given him cause 
thus to insult and abuse me. Would a friend at this time, when I had 
spent five weeks from home in this sad and fruitless search to find any reli- 
able trace of our child ; my wife prostrate after she makes one trip with 



1 % THE CEOWN WON^ BUT NOT WORN. 

me, and, despairing of ever finding her,, takes her bed ; my children in the 
greatest distress and commotion watch for some tidings of the missing one, 
they needing alf my care ; but duty and anxiety for the lost one kept me 
away as long as a possible chance or hope remained. Yet, on two occa- 
sions when I did reach home, I found those letters before named, from this 
pompous, bigoted, overbearing, and heartless man. Was this S3^mpathy, 
or was it not to awe me into silence at the fear of his publicly disgracing 
my once lovely girl who had fled in dismay before his power ? Judge ye 
which. Would a friend have disregarded the warning of Miss Heed and 
Chestina about her probable destruction, and the earnest wish to have some 
one pursue her to Lewiston, as they had requested Harriman to do ? Why 
did this head man, — the only one to order and direct on the Hill — parley, 
hesitate, argue and thus try to quiet their fears ; why put it off from twelve 
to six o'clock, after he knew where and how she had gone ? (I know he has 
said he thought best to wait until after the stage returned from the depot, at 
four a to see if the conductor could tell whether she stopped at L. or not.) 
This would be very uncertain, — a most miserable excuse for delay. She 
should have been pursued regardless of where she should stop. Would he 
have thus delayed if it had been his own child? Although I cannot recall the 
past or recover our daughter, whom we took so pure, so innocent, in 1861 
to Kent's Hill and put under the charge and protection of this " Rev. H. P. 
Torsey, LL.D., the President" of that religious institution, should we — 
after the long years we kept her there, after her suffering and death, under 
the circumstances of this sad case, with the disposition those who dealt 
with her show to disgrace her memory and to injure the feelings of parents 
and friends, — should we bear it all, and the thousand misrepresentations: of 
what she was guilty go uncorrected ? I believe it to be a duty from which 
I cannot escape, — a duty I owe to her memory, to myself and family, to her 
numerous friend, and to the public, — to state all the facts of this case 
which have come to my knowledge, and leave all to judge whether my 
daughter and family have been fairly used by those who control that insti- 
tution. I, as I told Torsey in that faculty meeting, should not dare to 
trust another child to his care. 

When we consider how liable the young are to step from the strict path 
of rectitude, and know not how great the temptation may be, if for the 
first offence, for five dollars (God only knows the real cause why it was 
done), frank acknowledgment and private restoration are made, should they 
make such woful work, such hasty reports, pursue to such extent, give her 
such advice, neglect her, and delay to notify her friends till too late to 
save her, till she had time to get beyond our, reach? When we consider 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 125 

how many in early life and some in mature 3>-ears have done something or 
caused others to do as bad; as the taking of five dollars, and all has been 
quietly kept with those alone who necessarily knew it, — they being usually 
well-disposed persons, who have in after life made first-rate men and women, 
have been an ornament to society and clone much good in the world ; 
whereas exposure might have ruined them forever ; — surely " kind words 
can never die," and may be productive of much good. Was there any 
good reason if all was true, for putting the worst construction upon this, 
her first offence? Should they not have used every means to keep the 
matter private, made the best of it, allowed her to graduate, or at least 
quietty and immediately notified her friends before intimating to her what 
the result would be? She had a right to be heard by counsel; we had 
rights and should have been notified early in the trouble. I had paid them 
money enough to put them under some obligations ; they owed some con- 
sideration to so old a student (of five years). She had lost enough there 
to have entitled her to some forbearance. They may say that they could 
not have kept it from the school ; they seem to have power to keep the 
taking of money and other articles by other students quite still. Who took 
Mrs. Grover's ten dollars and five cents? But few knew it, and less know 
who took thirty dollars, the hats, and music-book since L. left. They have 
a good faculty to keep what they choose from the school and the public. 
How much have they said about those sixty articles that Louise lost at 
the last term at the college? In God's name do not, for the sake of 
truth and justice, ever again represent that L. confessed in her letter 
that she stole even unmarked articles of clothing, when she distinctly in 
her letter to her sister says : " I had no intention of stealing them ; for 
every article I took I had lost one in the wash, and put those on in their 
stead, expecting before the term was done to find nry own. There was some 
sort of necessity for this. For instance, I came to the college with three or 
four good whole drawers ; to clay as I ride away I have none. Was it so 
strange that I should put on others also unmarked in their stead ? " In her 
class letter referring to the unmarked articles she says : " But if my own 
garments had not come by the close of the term, I should have left those 
where I got them, in the wash." She further says : "I can feel myself 
guilt}^ of but one crime, the taking of the five dollars." There is no con- 
fession of stealing clothes at all. What a reward for her frank confession 
did she receive by those who dealt with her ! Here I wish to put a question 
to the good judgment and common sense of all. If my girl had been a 
pilfering, thieving person, or a loose character, one who had been caught 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 



in mean things, had got herself out, by deception or otherwise, of dirty 
scrapes, would she have laid this so much to heart, take so much blame 
to herself, and think she had disgraced herself and friends, think her 
parents and friends would not forgive and be willing to receive her ; that the 
Saviour was an iron door to her, shut and bolted ; that God would not hear 
or forgive her in this or the world to come ? And was not Miss Case too 
bad in tryiug to impress upon her the enormity of the crime, and was not 
Torsey trying to do the same thing, when he, as he writes me, sa3 T s, "My 
talk with her was about going to God and to you with the whole matter"? 
Again he writes : "I had a long conversation with her the morning she left, 
and urged upon her two things, first, that she go to Jesus with the whole 
matter, making this sad event the beginning of a humble, earnest Christian 
life ; and second, that she go at once to her father and mother, telling them 
all." Now I appeal (to her confused and distracted mind) if this was 
not making her believe that she had committed so terrible a crime as to 
get down to a mere nothing before God and her parents to ask pardon, and 
that she leave the school in disgrace, and go at once to her father and 
mother telling them all ; as though she had committed a heinous offence, a 
great crime, so much so, that she must go at once to them. How could she 
graduate ? No delay would answer. If this was necessary, how do you 
suppose she thought he, Torsey, looked upon her crimes? This in my 
opinion was just what he meant, and did bring her to see herself when he 
advised her to leave, and how much mercy do you suppose she could expect 
from him ? Do you wonder that she writes, "heart breaking" as he left her? 
One has asked, what reason existed why they should desire to disgrace 
her, to send her away, and thus rob themselves of one of their best scholars 
at the approaching commencement ? I answer, what good reason had he to 
refuse her reasonable request, and turn her out of his house with threats ? 
IMd he give her or me a sufficient reason? Did it not plainly show that it 
was at least in part because he disliked her friend, who had left his school, 
and, as Louise writes, because she and her folks were not right on the goose? 
It is clear to me that he was carrying into execution his threat, " if she 
should do anything that looked like a wilful violation of any rule, she 
could expect but little forbearance from the faculty." Yes, that man and 
this faculty knew that she was not with them heart and soul as he expressed 
it ; that after she graduated, not by word or pen would they receive from 
her aught but condemnation of the narrow and bigoted course they had 
pursued towards her and others who did not think as they did, and that 
this faculty was human and liable to err. Disgrace would destroy her in- 
fluence. Her talent for writing they might have feared. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 127 

In reply to tlie report and misstatements made by A. J. Blethen, E. M. 
Smith, A. W. Waterhouse, Margie Houschild, Nellie A. Wing, and Mary 
E. Deering, acting as and purporting to be a committee of students chosen 
May 6, 1867, at a chapel exercise, after they had requested their teachers 
to withdraw ; I say to this committee and to the public that, after a care- 
ful perusal of this pamphlet, they will find that I have produced evi- 
dence and circumstances which will satisfy the impartial reader that most 
of the positions assumed in their preamble and resolves, and the statement 
therein made by this committee are refuted and shown to be untrue, 
while they were putting them before the public as " facts," of which they 
say, " many of us were personally acquainted with the circumstances ; " 
when in fact they did not have any personal knowledge of what they state. 
They go on to assert what was " utterly false," and with great boldness 
resolve what " is truthful." The reader will see that the doings of these 
students were a short time before the graduation of some of them, and to 
get into the good graces of this faculty, of which Torsey. is chief, — and in 
fact as many students have expressed it, — ■ Dr. T. is the faculty. I know 
and have seen enough to believe those students have it about right. Favor- 
itism had much to do I believe in their overmuch zeal to acquit and puff 
Dr. T., while they make up such a string of misstatements against an old 
school-mate, one whose reputation and standing was as good as their own 
for five long years at that school, and send them broadcast over the State 
to disgrace her memory, and injure the feeling of her friends, while she 
sleeps in death and can make no reply. Is not Dr. Torsey able to make his 
own defence ? The public may think it would have been as well to have let 
the faculty have had all the honor of pursuing their dead pupil. Torsey 
and others may say they knew nothing of this action of the students, he 
being away, etc. But I know this old angler so well, who knows how to 
throw his line and cover the hook, that I believe he knew just what would 
be done in his absence and how it would be accomplished. There are always 
enough who wish for favors to keep him quietly posted.- Who believes that 
the other teachers did not know what was to be done when they left the hall? 
AVhat right had students to remain after service if the cause was not 
known to, and permission given by the teachers? On reception of the 
action of this committee through the public journals, I addressed the fol- 
lowing note to each member of this committee, under date of June 7, 
1867, addressing each respectfully as follows : — 

" As you appear before the public as # one of the committee who have 
made numerous statements in regard to my daughter's leaving the college 
at Kent's Hill, and as you state them to be facts, and that you were person- 



128 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

ally acquainted with the circumstances, and that you do so to correct false 
and groundless statements, please inform me what personal knowledge 
you have of what Messrs. Torsey, Daggett, his wife, and- Miss Case said 
or did to Louise, or what they did not do or sa}'? 

"Please state how you know that the crime was not known to any 
member of the faculty, until many of those otherwise connected with the 
school knew it ; and that Torsey notified me to be in Lewiston before any 
morning train left ; that the teachers did not know nothing of the 
matter until others were in possession of every circumstance ; that, by 
the President, never has a single act of unkindness been manifested 
towards any student ; and that Louise was not expelled from the school ? 

"Yours, respectfully, 

"Jonas Greene." 

Is there anything disrespectful in this letter ? Certainly not, the reader 
will say; and believing, as I do, that three-fourths of their statements 
were entirely false (and knowing some of them to be so), that this was a 
wicked and uncalled-for attack on our dead child, I was under no 
obligations to write them ; but as I did not know but some one 
of this committee might be in possession of one fact, at least, of 
what they state they had knowledge of, and as I have spared no 
pains to obtain every fact possible, being very desirous of getting at 
the whole truth. As there was one ungrammatical sentence in those 
letters, my friend, to whom I showed them, and pointed out this sen- 
tence, and the reason why I put it in, will smile to see how one of 
those sprigs of learning, Mr. A. J. Blethen, for the reason that he 
could not answer any of my questions, he having assisted in publishing as 
facts that which he knew nothing about, snapped at this bait and for Ids 
answer, wrote over the top of my letter these words, — " Should advise a 
careful perusal of English grammar," and returned it to me, evidently as 
an insult. He has put forth statements as facts, and could not give me 
a civil answer ; how does he know a single one of them to be true ? 

I advise him, and the other four members of this committee, who have 
made no reply to my anxious but respectful request, to let Dr. Torsey, 
and the others who are implicated in this sad affair, take care of their own 
reputation, while he and his associates had better be attending to their 
own business. Modesty should have prevented her own sex, at least 
from appearing before the public* to disparage her memory, and wound the 
feelings of her friends. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 129 

From A. W. Waterhouse, one of this committee, I received a respectful 
note, but entirely failing to answer any of my questions. He says : — 

" With regard to statements made by the committee, of which 1 was a 
member, I will simply say, we endeavored to state the simple truth ; 
nothing more, nothing less. As to explanations, which you ask, I refer 
you to the statements as printed. You cannot blame the students and 
friends of Dr. Torsey for wishing to have a fair statement of the case 
before the public." 

What fair statement have you spread broadcast over the State? 
Simply this. You have repeated Torsey's and the others' statements to 
clear themselves, without asking or trying to find out a* single word of 
what the friends of Louise knew or had to say in her defence. Not a 
word as to his or their knowledge does this member of this committee give 
me as to how they know what they published as facts, to be true. He 
does not answer one of my questions, but refers me to what the}^ have 
printed; as much as to say, —you must take what we have said as true 
because Dr. T. has told us so ! Does- that make a clear case for the 
party implicated to say he is innocent? 

They quote from L.'s letter with a relish where it tells against her ; 
while nothing is said about any part of the letter where " H. P. Torsey, 
LL. D., the President," is implicated! 

The public will at once see where they desire the whole blame to rest. 
As I have before said, fear or favoritism predominates on the Hill, and 
their reward came speedily, as this committee of six took one-third 
of all the prizes awarded to that whole school at their closing exhibition. 
From the other four members, I got no reply. 

As I have spoken of a certain denomination usually taking sides with 
the faculty, and showing a great desire to apologize and to clear them from 
blame (no doubt but what there are many exceptions), let me give the 
reader a sample how some of their leading members have met this sad 
case. 

In October last, while I was at Lewiston for the remains of my daughter 
soon after the}?- were discovered, and there waiting for the coroner to return, 
as he was absent, — as I intended to have a post mortem examination, to 
ascertain the immediate cause of her death, — while I was slowly pacing 
the sidewalks in sad and solemn thought, a stranger approached, and 
asked a question .or two, and then said, " Is this Mr. Greene, of Peru, 
who has lost a daughter ? " And on receiving an answer in the afhrma- 
9 



130 TIIE CttOWN WON BUT NOT WOKN. 

tivc, be said, in substance, " I am one who do not visit the taverns or 
stores, much ; I usually stay at home ; but have heard that much has been 
said about your daughter's leaving the school at Kent's Hill ; and many 
are disposed to blame Dr. Torsey very much, while others may think 
differently. But I am one who wishes to see justice done, — do not take 
sides or part in street controversies." 

Thus he continued in a cool, sober strain, for some time, I making but 
little reply, as I was feeling very bad. But thinks I, who is this cool, 
fair-talking stranger? He soon said, "We are to have an investigation, 
and if T. is to blame, let it be known ; let him take the consequences ; 
if otherwise, let him be acquitted ; let justice be done, and have the 
matter cleared up ; " or words to that effect. 

I began to think that all this fair talk meant something. Just as we 
were about to part, I looked at him and said, ".Sir, although a stranger, 
I hope you are willing that justice shall be done to the memory of my 
poor, dead girl ?" 

He said, " Certainly," or words to that amount. 

As we were passing along, he said, " I might as well say, that I am 
one of the trustees of that institution. My name is S. R. Bearce, of 
this place." 

In a moment I thought I could see the whole length and breadth of him. 
I knew just where he would end, if this conversation was continued. I knew 
naught of him ; but knew he must be a Methodist. He talked quite freely. 
I asked him some questions about the trustees. 

I said, " Then Torsey is there by your (the trustees) authority? " 

" Yes," was his reply. 

"You control the whole matter, — do 3^011?" (Meaning the general 
management and supervision of that institution.) 

His answer was, " That is the purport, or our right ; but we leave most 
all to Dr. Torsey. We do not have much to do, except in such a matter 
as this." (Meaning the investigation spoken of b} 7 him, I suppose.) 

I asked him, — " when they proposed to investigate the matter? " 

" Oh ! " says he, " when you have the inquest." And said, " I see by 
the paper that you are to have it to-day ; and I have written (he did not 
say he had sent for him) Torsey, and he will be here by noon to-day." 

As we parted, thought I, " He was not a very disinterested stranger ; 
and how did he know whom the coroner will see cause to summon before 
him as witnesses?" 

The coroner did not arrive that day ; but those interested Kent's Hillers 
(who never went one mile to my knowledge, out of their way ; no, not one 



TTIE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 131 

of them, to save my child, or in any way ever offered to assist me to find 
her) did come. Torsey, Mr. Daggett and his wife (and no doubt, if Miss 
Case had not gone home to New York, she would have come also) were 
prompt, and on hand, to testify and tell fcljeir story to clear themselves, 
without being called by the proper authorities willing witnesses in their 
own defence. A little more modesty would have made them appear as well 

I waited until the next day (Thursday), and, as the coroner had not 
arrived, and as the time was fixed for the funeral on Sunday, and there 
was much to be done at home to carry out the arrangements, I was obliged 
to take her remains home, where I arrived with them on Friday evening. 

On Thursday forenoon, this sage and fair-talking S. R. Bearce, came 
into my brother's saloon in Auburn, and asked about the inquest, and said, 
" The coroner has got homo" (which was not true), and said, "Torsey 
was there, but must go home at noon." My brother, his wife, and some 
others were present. 

Mr. Bearce, my brother, and his wife began to talk about the cause 
and death of L. (I say but very little.) He (Bearce) again began in a 
seeming fair argument ; but, as my brother's wife said something in 
Louise's defence, he (B.) then went on, stated the case, argued, and 
cleared T., in about two minutes, from all blame. ITe did not then, or at 
the other long interview on the street, ask me a single question, as to 
what I or my family knew of this sad case. 

The reader can see from whom he desired and did get his information, 
or how much he cared about "justice being done." 

On his leaving the saloon, my brother, who was a stranger to him, says, 
— " That is the man who so unceremoniously snatched that memoranda 
book out of my hands the other day, when I, with four others of L.'s 
uncles and aunts had just arrived at the spot where the remains of L. lay, 
and were trying to identify her. I had just taken this little book from 
her reticule, and was looking it over for that purpose." 

At a later period, I learned that this man sent a team post-haste through 
to Kent's Hill (where it arrived at midnight), to notify Torsey. This 
shows the great interest taken, when the reputation of Dr. Torsey, the 
school, and denomination is at stake. 

The public have seen in many of the papers of this State, the following 
statement, after the account of the anniversary exercises at Kent's Hill, 
June 5th and Cth, 1807 : « By request of Dr. Torsey the trustees made 
a thorough investigation as to the conduct of the faculty in the case of the 
late Miss M. Louise Greene, and, as the result, they adopted resolutions 
and put them on file, entirely exonerating Dr. Torsey and the faculty from 



132 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

all blame, and fully approving their course." Mark well the first point in 
this statement : "by request of Dr. T. " Then it was not the trustees who 
instigated this examination. He desired to get before a committee of 
the trustees, and, with a long, sanctimonious face, tell his story, and, backed 
by his special friends, he thought he could make them believe he was not 
to blame. lie well ' knew I was not fool enough to appear at such a time 
and place before so one-sided a tribunal. 

As Dr. T. and the faculty, by this published statement, stand fully 
acquitted, and the trustees' committee are made to say they fully approve 
their course, the public are not informed how this was clone. I owe to the 
memory of the dead, to nryself and family, to show how this was accom- 
plished ; how " full and searching an investigation" (as one paper reports 
this matter) could have taken place. 

On the 27th of May, 1867, I received a letter from F. A. Robinson, 
informing me that there would be a meeting of the trustees of that insti- 
tution, June 5th, at ten o'clock A. M., " at which time the course of the 
faculty with reference to your daughter will be investigated by a com- 
mittee chosen for that purpose. The faculty invite you to be present, and 
to prefer any charges you have to make against them, or to make any 
statement you wish to present." 

To which I replied, May 28, as follows : — 

" Prof. Robinson: Sir, — Yours of the 28th is received and contents 
noticed. You name the time but not the place of the meeting of the trustees. 
From whom and by whom are the investigating committee to be chosen ? " 

To which he replied, May 29, as follows : " The place of holding the 
meeting is in the seminary building, Kent's Hill. The committee will be 
of the trustees, and, of course, appointed by them. At an informal 
meeting held at Bath a few weeks since, the gentleman were indicated to 
constitute the committee." He gave the names of five of the trustees as 
that committee. 

On the receipt of this, I, May 31, answered as follows : " On the receipt 
of yours of the 27th, inviting me to an investigation of the course of the 
faculty in reference to my daughter, in answer to my inquiries of the 
28th inst., asking you from whom and by whom are the investigating* 
committee to be chosen, I never was more surprised in my life, than, on 
the receipt of your answer of the 29th, to think, in a matter of so great 
and vital importance to me and my family, that you should so coolly inform 
me that the trustees have appointed that committee from their own mtnnbers, 
and that the meeting should have been appointed in such a place and at 
such a time. I wish you to say to Dr. Torsey that if he chooses to proceed 



THE CKOWN WON BUT NOT WOKN. 133 

in this sad and heart-rending case in that manner, self-respect forbids me to 
take any action before a committee which I have no voice in selecting." 

If the object of this investigation was really to bring out all the facts 
possible in this sad case of the departure and death of Miss Greene, and 
to ascertain if Dr. T., or any one connected with the care and control 
of that institution, was in any way to blame, and to satisfy the friends of 
Miss" G., and the public, who, to some extent, to say the least, b'elieve that 
a great wrong was done by some one, then every possible means should 
have been taken to give her parents and friends a fair hearing. An 
entirely disinterested committee should have been selected ; a proper time 
and place should have been agreed upon ; all parties should have had ample 
time to prepare for the hearing. Then the public would have placed con- 
fidence in their decision. It would have allayed the excitement. 

My objection to the committee was that they all were members of the 
trustees, directly interested to sustain their teachers and the school. The 
trustees consist of twenty-six gentlemen, scattered over the State, most 
of them belonging to the Methodists, and selected as interested persons, 
who are expected to work for the interest of this school. Two of those 
trustees belong to, and are the leading spirits of that faculty, namely, 
H. P. Torsey, and F. A. Robinson, who is a brother to Torsey's wife. 
The reader will now see how this matter stands. Dr. T. and some of his 
associates are accused of dealing under prejudice, unjustly and wrongfully, 
with an old student laboring under public censure. This man (who, by 
reference to their annual catalogue you will see, stands at the head of the list 
of Trustees as President) seeks to clear himself. He goes to his friends 
to their annual State Conference holden at Bath. He there makes a 
smooth speech, wherein he alludes to this affair. He has well matured 
what he wished to say, to arouse the whole conference to defend and sus- 
tain the reputation of that school. After alluding to attacks which some 
would make, or had made, of this affair to injure this school, he, in substance, 
says, speaking to the conference, " This school is j^our school ; its reputa- 
tion is yours to' sustain and defend." Wasn't this well put to the members 
of that conference, who were to go forth to their respective appointments, 
"and each would be expected to work for this their pet institution ? The 
reputation of their school is at stake, — his reputation is at stake, — and 
this cunning old fox expects that, through this conference of ministers, 
the members, on their respective charges, will also labor for the school ; 
and, when they do that, they must also sustain him and his reputation. 
The public will see whether I am correct or not. Robinson says, at an 
informal meeting held at Bath a few weeks since, " The committee was 



134 THE CROWa WON BUT NOT WORN. 

indicated." It is fair to suppose that this informal meeting took place 
soon after this speech of Torsey's ; and it is also fair to suppose that he or 
his special friends managed to get such a committee as he wished selected. 
As this gentleman, S. R. Bearce, of whom I have before spoken, was one 
of this committee, I could not expect justice from him, who had given so 
hasty and decided an opinion in advance of any trial ; and, further, as one 
of the leading members of tlis committee had already appeared, through 
a public journal, in a lengthy article in Torsey's defence, and the manage- 
ment of this institution. My objection to the time and place was, that it 
was on the day of, and one hour after, the anniversary exercises were 
advertised to commence ; when and where it must be all excitement and 
hurry for the next two days, — when and where the very air is tainted with 
and every breath is expected to be blown for Torsey and this institution. 
Some of their friends have given this as a reason or excuse for their neg- 
lect to look after and take care of my daughter, because of the approach- 
ing anniversary, two weeks ahead, — that the faculty were so much engrossed 
in preparation for the same. In one year they invite me to an investiga- 
tion just as the opening exercises commence, when the time of the faculty 
must be nearly all taken up in the performances. All must see that they, the 
faculty, meant no such searching investigation as is reported that they had. 
I must have occupied two days, at least, to have fairly presented my case 
to the committee. Was this a proper time to investigate the cause of the 
death of my child? Was this a public or private investigation? By the 
notice I received I supposed it was to be public. I am informed by one who 
made numerous inquiries that day, on the Hill, of various students and 
others, about such a hearing, that he found but one person, and that was 
a lady student to whom I had written about the meeting, who had any 
knowledge that such an investigation was to be had ; and by the way this 
man Torsey, — who pretends and testified before this committee how long 
it was before he knew L. had gone so publicly on the stage as to be seen 
from the college to get on to it at ten o'clock in the forenoon, in 
front of his house, and who was so indifferent or undecided as to wait 
until six o'clock at night before any one started to notify me, — 
could watch and know that this lady student had received a letter 
from me, and was so impertinent as to go to this student (who was 
to graduate the next day, and just then would feel a great hesitancy to 
deny his request), and ask her for that letter, which he took immediately 
and read before this committee, as I am informed. It is evident 
that he did not understand the reason of that letter being sent her at that 
time. I leave him to enjoy all the credit which he will gain in that trans- 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 135 

action. At the special time and place, and when the trustees and com- 
mittee were assembled, one gentleman present, on motion and by vote, 
was allowed to remain while the investigation proceeded ; the other gentle- 
man was questioned as to who he was, where he belonged, and what his 
business was there. A motion was made to exclude him ; but, before that 
motion was put, it was suggested that the motion had better not be put, as the 
gentleman would understand and would withdraw without being voted out. 
This gentleman then said he understood this to be a public meeting ; if so, he 
should remain ; if private, he would withdraw. They said many other things 
about some other business to be done before they proceeded with the investi- 
gation. At the suggestion of the trustees he finally withdrew. Subsequently 
at about six o'clock at night he was notified that he could attend at that ad- 
journed meeting. Query : Was this a public or private investigation ? I will 
call it mongrel. But this gentleman tells me it was certainly intended to be 
private. With Torsey and his special friends as witnesses, what other result 
and report could the public expect than what has appeared in some of the pub- 
lic journals ? To what extent this has allayed the public feeling, and relieved 
Torsey and his associates from blame, I am unable to say. To show the 
unfairness of this transaction, suppose I had selected a committee of my 
friends, and had appointed some public day for a hearing at my house in 
Peru, and then, about one week before the hearing, notified Torsey to be 
present, and make such defence for himself and associates as he chose, in 
regard to their doings and my daughter leaving the school. How would 
he and his associates have treated such a proposition? But I am aware 
that the trustees may say "Mr. Greene was no party to this transaction. 
We were only investigating the doings of our teachers or faculty at our 
school. One of our members wrote and invited him to be present, etc. 
He has no right to complain of our action." If they choose to treat this 
matter (the cause of the death of my child) in that way, they can do so. 
I can only say, if this was their case they might look upon such action in 
a different light; they might think this was treading on delicate groun;!. 
You are interested to sustain this school ; you were selected as such to 
work for and to sustain its reputation ; and when you attempt to investi- 
gate the cause of my child fleeing from } T our principal, and to an untimely 
death, you should do it fairly, and not rely upon your own faculty's 
statement and other interested witnesses to fully justify and exonerate 
them in this sad case. There is not a member of this faculty or trustees, 
or an intelligent person in any community, who would refer the smallest 
matter in dispute to such interested referees. There is not a lawyer to be 
found so void of fairness as to advise a client to attempt or accept such a 



136 THE CROWN WON BTJT NOT WORN. 

proposition. It seems to me that Dr. Torsey's course, in this attempt to 
clear himself, in so unfair and unjustifiable a manner, in so grave and 
wretched an affair, is enough to convince the public that he wofully 
wronged, and wickedly neglected to care for our child. If it was not so he 
would not have made such desperate efforts to clear himself from public 
censure. Was there anything done to save her ? Oh ! her bitter words' in 
her letter : " If I could have had an opportunity on the Hill to retrieve the 
past ! If this thing had not been made common talk and public property, 
there might have been a future for me." These words ought to wring in 
Torsey's ears while he lives. He made this appear so to her. He says he 
told her the school knew it ; and his urging her to go home in disgrace, 
to leave that da} T , — this, no doubt, is what she means by not having an 
opportunity on the Hill to retrieve the past. Again she writes : " They 
tried to make me account for all the little things lost during the term." 
When they, as Miss Case said they did, searched that little fanc}^ trunk, 
holding about a quart, were they looking for articles of clothing in that? 
Were they not trying to make her account for all the lost articles lost that 
term? and, were they not disgracing, abusing, and driving her to distrac- 
tion, when they, as Mrs. Daggett told me, examined her person, and 
the under-clothes she had on, so far as to see that her chemise was marked 
with her own name? Mr* Daggett admitted to me that, when he was 
called in to assist his wife and Miss Case in this examination (as I sup- 
pose after they had exhausted their skill and abuse on my poor girl), he 
questioned her about two. linen, handkerchiefs ; he would not say that he 
was cross and severe on her ; but I have very good reasons to believe that 
he was severe beyond reason. In his testimony before the committee of 
trustees he would not say that he was not cross with her. Have they 
found those small articles which they wrongfully accused L. of taking, 
but did not find, after pursuing her and her sister to the shameful 
extent to which they did? Why do Torsey and Robinson con- 
tinue to harp about that skeleton key? They told us in that faculty 
meeting that they did not accuse her of using it wrongfully. She, 
in her class letter, says : " My having that key did look bad ; but I 
do not believe that they really thought I used it wrongfully. I certainly 
never did." When I called on Daggett to see that skeleton key, he and 
his wife said they never saw or knew anything about the key until L. left. 
The' faculty said they said nothing personally to her about the key, 
but had told students, publicly, that if any of them should have in their 
possession such keys, and things should be lost, they would be suspected. 
Why lecture students publicly, if the having a skeleton key was an unheard- 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 137 

of event, and the keeping of one such a crime as to cause them to write 
continually about it to enlarge her crime? The} r well knew it is no uncom- 
mon thing in this and other schools for students to have such keys. An old 
student at this school told me they should not have thought it any harm 
to have kept one as a curiosity ; and yet, L. having one in her possession, 
(although given to her by one of their own students, of which Mrs. Dag- 
gett gave me the name of the giver) is spread abroad by Torsey and 
Robinson, both private ai\d public, as a heinous offence, — a crime. They 
not only tried to impress upon her, this poor distracted girl, " the enormity 
of her crime" (Miss Case's own language), but they try to "impress " the 
public with the same. That key I have never been able to find. 

In that faculty meeting, one week after L. had left, and our fears were that 
she was dead, he (Torse}') seemed desirous to know what we were going 
to say about the matter, — thought it best for us to say but little in regard 
to the same. Yes ; this unfeeling man thought we could lose our child in 
such a heart-rending manner and say but little about it, while he and his 
associates send broadcast over the State all kinds of stories. We must be- 
lieve all they say, take all his insulting letters, let them connive to get up 
student committee's reports and trustee committee's reports, publish and 
send them over the State, and her friends not say a word. Does it look as 
Robinson writes, " after as private an examination as possible," when 
Chestina and Mr. Chandler, who came home with her, knew all ; Mr. 
Swagler tells L. the morning she left he knew all ; Miss Case takes all hei 
class, before L. left that morning, and tells them all ; Torsey tells her that 
morning the school know it ? Is it true that they kept it as private as pos- 
sible, or was it not making it public? I never accused him of publicly rep' 
rimanding her before the school. This sly, cunning man has a different way, 
I think, to accomplish his ends. But his often and repeated denial of doing 
so has of late led me to think that something of that kind was clone by him. 
I submit to the public if I have not shown him to have been her enemy for 
a long time. At any rate, she looked upon him as such, and a revengeful 
one, too. Does not this pursuing their dead student, to disgrace her mem- 
ory and to injure her friends, show that Louise well understood that man? 
Did she not understand his power and will to do, to accomplish his object? 
If any one doubts his infallibility, then private and public indignation must 
be aroused against them. They are not content with the death of their 
pupil, who made immediate, full, frank confession and restitution, .and 
atoned with her life for that small offence ; but even now it comes to me 
that they threaten, if I dare defend my child's character from numerous mis- 
representations set afloat, that they will further disgrace her memory and 



133 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

injure her friends. Therefore we or the public need not be surprised at any 
stories, or any means they may take to accomplish that end. • In the lan- 
guage of their circulars, can "Parents feel assured that their sons and 
daughters will find here a safe and pleasant home " ? 

Sarah Dow, one of L.'s class, tells me lately that Miss Case, the precep- 
tress, on the morning of May 23, before Louise left, called all the clabs into 
her room in the college, and told them all about the affair, and said she 
could tell them now ; she had not had liberty to, do so before. Then some- 
body must have given her liberty to publish all to her class. Who but the 
faculty could do so, of which Torsey is chief ? This must be about the 
time T. was talking with L., and telling her the school knew it. Did Miss 
Case know that she would be expelled ? It does look like that ; or she 
would not have been telling all to them unless she was preparing them for 
that event, reporting all in such a manner as to make it look, as Miss 
Fuller expressed it, u so large then to us." 

It is clear to my mind that this one of theieading spirits of the faculty 
then knew as well as Torsey that she would be expelled. The reader will 
see that, any way which they can explain it, they did not mean to spare her 
feelings or save her from disgrace. My poor girl knew it well. One other 
member of her class writes me, June, 1867, that Miss Case did, on that 
fatal morning, " immediately after breakfast, call our class into her room " 
(the quick eye of our poor girl no doubt saw this movement, and quickly 
divined her intention) ; " and the principal object, she said, that she had, in 
calling us into her room, was to tell us her course in regard to the matter 
from the beginning, and also to tell that L. confessed to the charges brought 
against her." Then her first object was to explain and clear herself. (The 
others were also very ready to do that.) The next object was to publish 
her private confession to all the class. Why, in the name of all that is 
good and noble, did not this preceptress, who should have acted the 
motherly, or at least a friendly, part, and extend her protecting care 
over all she jn part presides over, those whom she is directing and control- 
ing, — why, instead of making all so public and to explain her course to 
others, did she not, the evening before, go to my lone, distressed, and dis- 
tracted child, and speak words of encouragement and comfort to her troubled 
mind, and give her kindly advice, to see if she did not want some assist- 
ance? 

Benjamin Harriman told me, at his house on Kent's Hill, May 26, three 
days after L. had gone, that just before he started for the depot with his 
coach, on which she rode away, he heard something of her trouble, and 
knew by her looks that she was feeling bad, although she tried to keep up 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 139 

favorable appearances, and saw she was clad in old apparel, and that she 
was taking nothing with her but a little reticule. His fears were excited 
for her safety, and while disposing, at the depot, of the baggage and ex- 
press matter, he thought he ought to get on to the train and go to 
see what became of her, but could not think of any one to take charge of 
his stage team. He thought he would gain time, and, if possible, before 
the train started, go and talk with her. Just as he got through, he started 
to go to her on the platform. As soon as she saw him coming towards 
her, she turned and went directly into the cars, and, as they were about to 
start, he did not pursue. He then learned that she had purchased a ticket 
for Lewiston ; and, on his return to the Hill, meeting Miss Reed on the 
street, she says, on speaking of her sudden departure without taking her 
baggage, and in her ordinary clothing, and fearing the sad result liable to 
follow, he was affected to tears, — he saying, at her request, that he would 
take a team and go with Chestina to Lewiston, in pursuit of Louise. If 
this arrangement or request of Miss Reed had immediately been put into 
execution (and I have no doubt but what it would have been had Dr. 
Torsey been out of the way, where he could not have been consulted) , she 
doubtless would have been saved, as about three hours would have taken 
them to Lewiston, where Louise remained more than four hours at the Elm 
House after a team could have been started by Mr. Harriman to pursue her. 
There can be but little doubt but Torsey's influence prevented Miss Reed's 
attempt to get a team started to pursue her. Miss Reed says, after the 
long and wretched delay, in which she and Chestina got all out of patience, 
heart-sick, in waiting until six o'clock at night, when the team came 
to take Chestina home, she felt as if it was too late to save her ; that before 
that team could reach me and I could get to Lewiston, she would get be- 
yond our reach, or, what she more feared, would be dead. 

An old student informs us at our home that Louise was once, in his and in 
the presence of the assembled school, at prayers, severely reprimanded by 
one of the faculty, because she did not rise during singing ; and after she had 
given as a reason for not rising that she was sick and unable to stand up, 
he, with harsh and ungentlemanly language, calling her by name, sent her 
to her room. Louise had told her mother of the same, and said she felt so 
sick during prayers that she could not stand. This was some time during 
the last year of her stay at that school. Dr. Torsey, at one time after 
prayers, while lecturing the students, and in a slurring manner, called her 
by name in regard to some small matter about leave of absence, all tending 
to show their prejudice and desire to wound her feelings. The student 
above referred to told us of a case which, to his mind, was clear, where 



140 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

Torsey, on account of the religious sentiments or opinions of a student, — an 
able writer, one who was excluded from, and was not allowed a chance to 
compete for, distinction in composition, on account of his well-known 
religious opinions, which came in contact with the established religion of 
this school, — a great outburst of indignation was expressed against an argu- 
ment which this student made in their tyceurn, on the affirmative of the 
question, " Whatever is, is right." He was talked to and his arguments 
ridiculed. Ever after he was not allowed a fair chance as a writer or de- 
bater in the school. 

Another student writes me, and among other things, speaking of Torsey, 
says : "In fact, I do not admire his religious belief, neither do I admire 
the gentleman, not because of anj^ particular individual misusage, but sim- 
ply did not like his way of acting towards those who did not believe as he 
would choose to have them. I noticed it on several occasions, and others 
with me in that manner of thinking. It is my private opinion that he has 
his favorites, and that those favorites are favored, though in a sly way." 

Dr. Torsey is only a man possessed of human nature, and is as liable, 
when in a strait place, to dissemble and deny what he did do, as others 
have done to screen themselves from blame. If a guilty person says he is 
innocent, will that answer if all the circumstances point the other way? 
If a man threatens to burn jonv buildings, and he is proved to have been 
out and near your place the night they are burned, with materials to fire 
them, his denial will not clear him from suspicion. If you are aroused in 
the night by some one who has stealthily entered your house, you make a 
vigorous and successful spring at and finally overpower him ; and if he 
sould say he was tired, cold, and came in to get lodging for the night, 
would you believe him, if he was armed with a revolver, dirk, and other 
deadly weapons? Judge and jury would infer his motives, — he would be 
held as a burglar. 

I find, on the 23d of Maj r , 1866 (after my daughter had for the past 
thirt} T -six or forty hours been implicated, harassed, and pursued by those 
under Dr. T.'s control and direction),' Dr. Torsey taking her alone in a 
room in the college, and having a long conversation with her ; and, on his 
leaving her, I find her without saying a word to any' other person in that 
building, immediately taking off her gold sleeve-buttons, her class ring, 
breaking from her neck a small cord on which she had long worn that 
very little key which opened that fancy trunk, and evidently, at this time, 
hastily writing those words on the lap of an envelope, " Heart breaking ; 
clearly beloved, adieu," and tucking them into her diary, which she left in 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 141 

her trunk. I find her going to her sister's room, in another house, in an 
excited state of mind. Failing to see her, she writes a short note, telling 
her she was going to Lewiston, etc. I find her leaving money in her trunk, 
and going in her poorest apparel, taking nothing of importance with her. 
I find her taking the stage in front of Torsey's house, at ten in the fore- 
noon. I find him in his stable, which is attached to his house. Before 
twelve he is notified just how she left, and the great fear of her destruction 
made known to him. I find him parleying, delaying,- consuming time, — 
saying he could or would do this, that, or the other thing, but doing noth- 
ing to recover her for eight long hours after her departure. I find him tell- 
ing her sister it would not have been best for her to have gone on to the 
stage, etc., and telling Miss Reed that L. said she wanted it kept from the 
school, — she stay and graduate, — and that she told him if she could not 
graduate, there was no future for her ; thus plainly indicating to him her 
awful fate. I find him writing me various things about her leaving, telling 
us things inconsistent with what he has written, and withholding things 
from us, which he had told others, about her leaving. I find her writing 
her sister the day she left, that Dr. T. advised her to leave that day. I 
find him long before telling her she could not expect any more favors of 
him or of the school ; and if she should do anything that looked like a wil- 
ful violation of any rule, she could expect but little forbearance from the 
teachers. I find she had confessed, privately, to three of them, just what 
and all she had done, and the reason why she had done so, excepting the 
money, — she gave no reason for that. I find her writing that she felt her- 
self guilty of but one crime, — the taking of the money, — and sajang that 
was a mystery to her. At length her wasted form is discovered. With 
all this, and many other petty annoyances, with his well-known prejudice, 
I have a right to doubt his, and the other inconsistent statements coming 
from that faculty. I, and the public, have a right to infer and judge, 
under all the circumstances of this sad case, what was most likely said 
and done which sent her to an untimely death. And when I find him 
writing me, May 27, 1866, four days after she left, " I had a long conver- 
sation with her the morning she left, and urged upon her two things." 
After stating the first, he says, — second, " that she go at once to her father 
and mother." Does that look like allowing her to graduate, within 
twelve days, when he. was urging her to go at once home to her parents, in 
disgrace ? Who will say he expected her to return and graduate ? And 
when he writes me, June 30, 1866, " She was not sent home," — he saw 
that was too bare faced a lie, and he erased the words " sent home," and 
wrote the word M expelled" over them, making the sentence read, — " She 



142 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

was not expelled." Judge ye. whether this statement is true ! I cannot 
see it in that light, when she writes that he said, "We won't call it expulsion, 
but I advise you to go home to-day." What in the name of Heaven was he 
doing but expelling her? God being my judge, I believe he is attempting 
to palm off upon me an absolute falsehood. And can he make the public 
believe that he was honest when he told Chestina and Miss Reed that he 
had no fears of her destruction ? Is he more dull of apprehension than 
many students who greatly feared for her fate as soon as they knew how 
she had gone? He who knew her best, her sensitive nature, knew all 
a,bout how she had gone, has no fears, tells about her going into a factor}^ 
or running awaj^. O consistency ! He is a sharp, shrewd man, and thinks 
he can readily read characters, discern motives, and quickly anticipate re- 
sults. Don't tell me he did or could not understand what would most 
likely be the result. Under all the circumstances and evidences, I have 
come to the following conclusion, and from which I cannot retract, un- 
less some new evidence shall be disclosed : — That as he (Torsey) found 
that he could not control and mould her opinions, and as she would not 
consent to his infallibility, he became prejudiced against her, — her influ- 
ence, religiously, did not suit him, she not being with them heart and soul 
(as he expressed it), — this annoyed and perplexed him much; and now, 
when he found she was in trouble, he thinks, I now have a good opportunity, 
Miss Greene, I will make you feel my power. I will so manage as to make 
you see that you have no chance to graduate, without saying so in so 
many words. (I do not believe he ever told any student so ; he has a dif- 
ferent way of accomplishing his purpose.) I will, when I get you to see 
the hopelessness of your case, advise you to leave. Before your parents 
know anything about your trouble, you will be far away, as they may 
make trouble. This will disgrace you, and will also punish your father for 
his plain and pertinent letter to me two years ago. You will live through 
it, I think, — he not caring or thinking but little what would become of 
her. After she had gone, and when he found just how, and all about her 
leaving, he, at a glance, saw the serious turn the case was taking, and the 
result that would be likely to follow ; he was greatly perplexed to know 
how to manage, or what to say or do. Hence his pretence that he did not 
know she was gone for some time. Then he hesitates, argues, delays, goes 
away ; comes again, and tells what he had arranged to do ; and then there 
is another two or three hours' delay before he puts that arrangement into 
execution. He saw the fix he would be in if Harriman and Chestina had 
immediately pursued and been successful in securing her return, or saving 
her life. She would have confronted him before her friends, and said, 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 143 

11 You sent me away in disgrace, and why do you pursue me?" This meet- 
ing her and her friends he wished to avoid. Hence his neglect to pursue 
her, and his long delay to notify me, so as to give her time to escape be- 
yond the reach of friends, or that the result might be as it was, before any 
one could reach her and save her life. 

If her crime had been a hundred-fold greater, so much greater the neces- 
sity and the responsibility resting upon him. He discloses to us his wicked 
deception most when he tries to make students and others believe he loved 
her, was tender of her feelings, and felt bad about her misfortune and 
death, when everything showed to the contrary. This outward appearance 
he attempts for effect. So is his great effort to be particularly kind to the 
students since this awful tragedy. He knows his reputation is at stake, 
and he needs all the friends which he can make ; and I have no doubt but 
what many have been the favors that students have received on account 
of the suffering and death of our poor girl. This man has been at the 
head of that school so long that in my opinion he has become arbitrary and 
overbearing. Authority and power for a long time makes men so. If he 
is that good and noble man, that kind and Christ-like Christian, some 
would have the public believe, why does he pursue this vindictive course 
towards her parents ; why write me his insulting letters ? It cannot be any- 
thing that I have written him, for the reader has seen every word I have 
written him since L. left, in those two letters before given. Parents who 
shall read this, were it your child, should you be willing to bear all we have 
and not say a word? No, you would not only say, but you would have all 
you could do to keep your hands off of him. It may be with all those who 
dealt so summarily with L. on the Hill, that their character from child- 
hood up could stand such an ordeal as they are applying to hers, and each 
and all come out unscathed ; it may be so, with that committee of students, 
and with Dr. Torsey ; but a close examination might disclose the fact that 
all have not escaped having some unfavorable reports circulated about 
them, at some period of their lives. 

One of my neighbors (kindly, he may have thought) advised me not to 
come out and make any defence for my child ; said that a Methodist min- 
ister told his wife that they at Kent's Hill had fifteen counts against her, — 
fifteen thefts as he took it to be ; and I have no doubt but thousands are 
made to believe such stories. If that be true then I have over sixty just 
such counts against them, besides the cash, post-office stamps, clothing, 
and various other articles lost there during the five years and previous to 
those lost the last term. 

I sought through the press to give our child in death the benefit of her 



144 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

previous good character, by publishing those numerous certificates, and 
strong ^proofs of her ever good standing and moral worth from a child up 
to this sad affair, not saying a word about or blaming any one in regard 
to her leaving and subsequent death. A large portion of the press (as I 
believe for fear of losing the patronage of this Kent's Hill influence and 
that denomination) refused to publish those statements or certificates of 
her previous good moral character. The publication of those certificates 
in some of the papers seemed to stir up this faculty and their friends 
everywhere to fresh attacks on her character ; they seem to act as if they 
thought their only chance to escape public censure was to stigmatize her 
previous character, enlarge upon her last act, and make her crime appear 
so large that they would be justified in their treatment to her, and they 
take shelter under their cry of " Thief, thief." The refusal of so large a 
portion of the press to publish those certificates, and the publishing of the 
other side by some of the papers, leaves me no alternative but to seek 
some other source to reach the public, and vindicate her previous character, 
and to show the great wrongs done her while living, and since she fled from 
that institution. 

The friends of Dr. T. may say as did the friends of Prof. Webster of 
Boston, in the Parkman murder case, — " Oh ! he is so nice a man ; his repu- 
tation stands so high ; he is clear ; he never did that act. He says he 
did not, and denies all knowledge of the crime, — the whole affair ; and you 
ought to believe him. Why, Prof. Webster has not murdered, has not cut 
up, boiled, or burnt his victim's remains. That is horrible ! too bad to 
think of in this Christian land." And people would look at each other with 
astonishment when some expressed their belief that it was true. Yet it was 
so. And this grave professor denied and lied at every turn in his case 
until he found he must swing for it. Then, he owned and confessed all. 
And so it has been in a thousand cases. None can tell what man pos- 
sessed of human nature will do under bad circumstances. 

The reader can never realize how. grateful we feel towards those of her 
class who asked Miss Reed to go to Torsey and see what could be done ; and 
to Miss Reed, for her efforts and earnest desire to get Harriman and 
Chestina started immediately after her. And our abhorrence and contempt 
for this modern JVero, who could fiddle, play upon words to consume time, 
prevent pursuit, while our poor child, heart-broken, was fleeing from him 
(who then stood in the place of, and should have extended parental pro- 
tection to her), from all that was dear to her on earth, and going to 
destruction. 

I can now, as it were, hear the moans, the sobs, coming up from that 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 145 

lonely forest, where our darling child so terribly perished. Her dying 
wail, saying to that heartless man, " You saw me in great distress and you 
ministered not unto me ; you saw me in trouble, and you took me not in ; 
you knew of my terrible disappointment, my heart-rending feelings, — for I 
told you I could not go home to my parents in disgrace. I told you if I 
could not graduate, fhere was no future for me. You advised me to leave. 
You sent me heart-broken to an untimely death, when you could have 
saved me. When you come up to the judgment-seat, where you and I 
shall stand around that great white throne, and before Him who knows all 
things, will you then and there attempt to excuse yourself to the Judge of 
all, as you did to my parents, and say, c Your daughter was of age, and I 
had no right to control her ; she was under censure, and it would be un- 
proper to have sent her to my house and to my wife ' ? " Torsey and her 
other accusers on the Hill may have religion, but, I pray God to give me a 
different kind of religion, — a religion which shows some of the precept 
and examples taught by Cnrist while upon earth. 



In laying before my readers some of our departed child's writing, permit 
me to state, that the first piece given was written by her when less than ten 
years old, the first she ever wrote, and then will follow others written all 
the way along from ten to sixteen, before she went to Kent's Hill, with some 
written after and while she was attending there ; but as a large portion of 
her writings are lost there with her other things, we cannot give some of 
her ablest productions to the public, unless they shall be restored to us. 

LIBERTY. 

Everything that God has made loves liberty. The little birds that sing 
so merrily to us, when deprived of libert} 7 , lose their cheerfulness, and 
often pine away and die. The lambs that sport so gayly in the green fields, 
when confined, bleat piteously and seem to say, let me go ; and even the 
little worm that crawls beneath our feet, when confined to a narrow space, 
shows discontent. If liberty then be so dear to the animal creation, how 
much more so must it be to God's intelligent beings ! And how great must 
be the sin of those who deprive their fellow-beings of that liberty they so 
highly prize themselves, and also take away the key of knowledge that 
they may better subject them to bondage ! 



HOW WE SPENT INDEPENDENCE DAY, 1857. 
Every one said Independence day would be pleasant ; and so it was. 
Every one intended to enjoy themselves to the best of their ability, myself 



10 



146 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WOEN. 

among the number. A thousand schemes, for pleasure were proposed, 
and finally it was unanimously agreed that a visit to Eumford Falls would 
be just the thing, away from the bustle and confusion attendant upon a 
crowded celebration, away from the crowded street and the vulgarity and 
drunkenness that usually characterize such a miscellaneous gathering, to 
that scene of rural beauty. Accordingly six o'clock A.M. found us on our 
way to that delightful place, in company with a few of our intimate friends 
and school-mates. The day was warm and pleasant ; the tall trees waved 
their leafy branches above our heads ; the tiny birds warbled their morn- 
ing songs, and all nature seemed to participate in our enjoyment. After 
riding about eight miles, a loud rumbling sound gave notice of our approach 
to the cataract. Leaving our teams a short distance, we walked up to the 
very brink of the precipice which overhung the water, when a magnificent 
sight lay beneath our feet. The verdant hue of the overhanging trees 
blended with the deep blue waters as they foamed and dashed down their 
rocky bed ; the everlasting mountains that proudly rear their lofty heads in 
the distance ; the clear blue sky over our heads ; and the fancifully woven 
carpet of green grass spread out beneath our feet, — all these and many 
other attractions formed a picture worthy of a painter's skill. Beneath 
the wide-spreading branches of a noble tree, where a spring of clear cold 
water bubbled up from the rock below to quench our thirst, we seated our- 
selves to rest, and also to partake of the various refreshments provided 
for us. 

After enjoying a quiet chat and a good lunch, we took a last look of that 
charming spot, and soon were rapidly travelling on the homeward way, 
stopping, however, a short time at the house of one of our number, where 
we were entertained with a feast of good things. The old family clock 
struck six as we arrived home again, and methinks in the future, when we 
look back upon the days that are past and gone, our minds will delight to 
linger upon the remembrance of that happy Independence day. 

LIFE: WHAT IS IT? 

What is life ? — to some, " a breath, 

A vapor flying to the skies; " 
To others, a gay, fantastic path 

Bestrown with flowery phantasies. 

What is life ? — a dream to those 

Who idly stray until its end; 
A dream, upon whose final close 

A sad awakening shall attend. 






Peru, Dec. 24, 1859. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 147 

What is life ? — a journey long 

And drear, when travelled all alone, 
But when companions cheer the way, 

One upon which we long would stay. 

What is life? — a darksome night, 

With but one star to light the gloom, 
And on Death's wing we take our flight, 

To dwell 'neath Heaven's unclouded sun. 



THOUGHTS BY THE WAYSIDE. 

" Mr. B., it seems too bad to cut down that clover," said I to our 
hired man, one sultry summer day, as he was busily engaged in mowing 
down the fragrant clover that lifted its tall heads, crowned with beautiful 
blossoms in our little enclosure. " Why ? " queried he. ** Because it smells 
so sweetly and looks so pretty." " Its beauty will soon fade," he replied, 
resuming his labor. 

I, too, turned again to my work, but his thoughtless words had awakened 
a train of thought in my mind ; and in fancy I again beheld the counte- 
nance of a lovely maiden with whom I associated in my early school-days, 
and whose history I well knew. Hers was a beauty of the regal cast : 
wavy hair of purplish blackness, flashing black eyes, a form of stately 
beauty, and fair, round face, every feature of which was cast in beauty's 
mould. An enviable lot was hers ; the only daughter of an aristocratic 
family, her wish was law ; her pleasure, their chief aim to secure. Petted 
and indulged by her parents, flattered by her associates, to her life must 
have worn a cheerful look, and earth a paradise. 

But soon the scene changed. Pecuniary embarrassments swept away her 
father's fortune, and with it went most of their fashionable friends. Death 
came and removed one after another of that family band, till parents, 
brothers, all were gone. She was almost penniless and alone in a great 
city. Alas ! too truly had she learned the mutability of earthly enjoyments ; 
and, as I recalled the story of her misfortunes, I thought of the farmer's 
words, " It will soon fade." Gone were her wealth and her numerous 
friends and relatives, — her earthly all, faded and withered beneath the sharp 
scythe of time. 

Again, I see a young man, his cheeks flushed with ambition of j^outh, 
and eyes sparkling at the thought of the future glory that should be his ; 
of the wealth he would gain and the fame that should surround his name 
with a halo of glory. Again I saw. him in riper manhood ; he had gained 
that emolument for which he toiled. "Wealth had come at his call, yet it 



148 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

brought increased cares. Ambition had raised him to an equality with 
great men* of his age ; but it brought no real happiness. He was blessed 
with a model wife and family to sympathize with him in affliction and to 
rejoice at his joy ; yet mingled with pure affection was much dross. He 
had reached the summit of the hill, and now enjoyed the world's favor ; 
yet one thing was wanting ; without it, true happiness cannot exist. He 
had sought it in pleasure, but it was not there ; in riches, but found it not ; 
in fame, but the search proved useless ; in the busy walks of fashion he 
found it not ; neither did it dwell in the halls of literature and art. De- 
spairingly he turned away, thinking that true happiness dwelt not on earth, 
when his eyes rested on a humble volume lying on the shelves of his book- 
case. It was old and faded, and bore marks of neglect by the dust which 
had gathered thickly upon its lids. Thinking to beguile a few moments, 
he listlessly opened the book, and the first passage which met his eye read 
thus : " Come unto me, all ye fhat are weary and heavy laden, and I will 
give you re$ t." Rest ! was not this the treasure for which he had searched 
long and diligently, but found it not? Rest for the weary and heavy 
laden ; was he not wearied with toil and cares? — heavy laden with burdens 
of anxiety ? Instantly he resolved to seek that rest, to obtain that peace 
in the way which the Bible pointed out. He was this time successful in 
his search. By slow but sure degrees his mind began to comprehend the 
true end of life, — to see that not man's but God's favor must be sought, 
ere the longings of his immortal spirit could be satisfied. And when this 
was done, when the barriers of pride and sin were removed, and the light 
of religion shone upon his soul, his cup of happiness was full to overflow- 
ing. Did our Saviour call home his darling child ? He could look with an 
eye of faith up to that blessed land where sorrow and suffering come no 
more, and behold his child among the angel band which dwells at the right 
hand of our Father, and rejoicing in his smiles. Did men scorn and 
despise him? Turning to God's holy word, he reads, "Blessed are ye, 
when men shall revile and persecute you." And when the death-angel 
came knocking at the door of his soul, he could say, with the inspired 
prophet, " Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will 
fear no evil, for Thy rod and Thy staff will comfort and sustain me." 
Such piety, like fruitful seed planted in fertile soil, grows and expands, 
choking out each obnoxious weed, till, transplanted, it blooms forever in 
more congenial climes. 

Sorrow and disappointments may overwhelm us ; friends may depart 
and enemies exult in our distress ; every earthly pleasure may wither and 
fade, as the morning dewdrop from the grass, or as the grass itself sinks 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. H9 

beneath the sharp scythe of the mower ; yet with religion for our support, 
we shall safely tread the mazy labyrinth of life, and finally repose in that 
land of the blest, where sickness shall come no more, and where enjoy* 
ments are eternal and unfading. 

LINES. 

I sat within my chamber, 

One cold and wintry night; 
Around me winds were blowing, 

And the moon refused her light. 

And as I sat there thinking 

Of the love that once was mine, 
Of the friend, who, in life's morning, 

Was cut down, by the hand of Time,— 

My mourning heart cried wildly, 

" How can I walk alone 
The dark and dreary pathway 

That leads to our Father's home? 

" I miss thy bright, sweet presence, 
friend forever gone! 
While others walk in gladness, 
Must I wander alone ? 

u Even now my feet are weary, 
And hardly find the track ; 
If thou, love, could'st but guide me, 
I'd fear no turning back." 

The darkness grew still deeper, 
Still wilder came my cry, — 
" I cannot live without thee ; 
Father, let ma die! " 

When on my spirit vision 

Two forms were shadowed forth, 
One, with a crown of glory, 

And one like those of earth. • 

"Fear not, for I am with you," 
Said Jesus, from on high; 
And the voice of my lost darling 
Whispered, " I, too, am nigh." 

IN MEMORY OF A MUCH LOVED FRIEND. 

Hard, indeed, it was to leave thee, 

Beautiful, in life's bright bloom: 
Harder still it was to lay thee 

In the cold and silent tomb. 



150 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

Yet we know our God is righteous, 
In his presence thou art blest; 

And we, praying, hope to greet thee, 
In that sweet and sinless rest. 

Will heaven's sweet and thrilling musio 
Fill thy heart with sweet refrain ? 
• 'Midst the joys of angel worship 

' Wilt one thought of me retain ? 

Will affection's strong, deep tendrils, 
Severed here by death's rude hand, — 

Will they not bo reaching downwards, 
Yearning for me in that land ? 

Father, grant me faith and patience, 
Strength to wait, and labor on; 

That in death I may bo worthy 
To arise, and join mine own. 



SPRING. 

Night is gathering round us, twilight veils tho sky; 
Whispering winds are telling spring is drawing nigh. 
Birds are flying northward, in angelic notes 
Music sweet is swelling from their little throats; 

Calling to each other in the early morn, 
Waking us poor mortals ere 'tis fairly dawn ; 
Graceful little creatures, fairy-like and gay, 
Harbingers of summer, everywhere are they. 

From the earth uprising, robed in brightest green, 
Clothing earth in beauty, the springing grass is seen ; 
Trees once bare and ragged, angular and slim, 
Beneath spring's genial influence, soon will look quite trim. 

Cedar, spruce, and hemlock, soon you'll charm no more, 
Budding oak and maple will eclipse you soon; 
All nature stirring round us, all earth with life replete, 
Proclaims that earth is waking from her long winter's sleep. 



These are but a small portion of her early writings. I would have been 
glad to have given the public the story written by her at the age of twelve 
years, but the length of the same, prevents it. I give these as samples to 
show the drift of her youthful mind. The next is an account of her first 
start for Kent's Hill, in 1861, the day she left home. 

A LEAF FROM MY JOURNAL. 
Tuesday, March 12, 1861. — This morning we left our pleasant home 
for a sojourn among strangers. The sky was clear and bright, and gave 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 151 

promise of a pleasant day, and the air was just sharp enough to send the 
blood dancing through every vein, giving clearness and vigor to both body 
and mind. Leaving home is usually an unpleasant affair to us, but we had 
looked forward so long and so eagerly to this journey that its approach was 
a signal for rejoicing. What if we ivere going among entire strangers ? we 
should soon get acquainted ; if we did not, 'twas no matter. "We knew we 
should like, and started in the best of spirits. 

A journe}- of so much importance must have some remarkable incidents. 
Ours first happened in this way. On our way to R. it became necessary to 
cross the Androscoggin river on the ice, which was rather a hazardous pro- 
ceeding. We got along well enough, however, till we reached the farther 
shore, when crash ! splash ! and the first thing I knew I found myself sit- 
ting in not the most graceful attitude in a snow-bank : my companion near 
by was oh-ing and oh-ing at a great rate, while the big trunk stood on end 
between us. Afar off was seen Charley-horse, walking demurely along just 
as if nothing at all had happened, and no doubt pleased at finding his load 
so suddenly lightened. At first I could hardly tell how I came there, but 
on looking towards the river I saw at once that near the shore the ice had 
suddenly given away, causing the sleigh to plunge down two or three feet, 
and necessarily throwing us out. Luckily the • shore was so near that we 
landed on the bank instead of going into the river, for a cold water plunge- 
bath would not have been, just at that time, very agreeable. We gatherep 
up ourselves and accoutrements, and finding nothing damaged (except the 
ice, which was badly fractured), went on our way rejoicing. (My " Leaf" 
being covered, I must finish my story another time.) 



THE ANGEL'S CHOICE. 

When the day was finished, and the starlight 

Had fallen soft over the earth, 
Erom out the beautiful cloud-land 

The angels were gazing forth. 

Long they gazed, for our earth was lovely, 

With no trace of sorrow or sin; 
Like the radiant bowers of Eden 

Ere the serpent had entered in. 

But list! for the silence is broken, 

And forth, with a tiny footfal, 
Steps one from the band of seraphs, 

And soft to the others she calls: — 

"Sisters! of all the bright things 
That un^ mankind are given, 



152 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

Which would you choose to dwell in, 
If earth was your home, and not heaven ? " 

u In a cascade bright and sparkling," 
Said one of the laughing elves; 

" Or, down 'mid the coral islands, 
Where the giant sea-monsters dwell." 

" In a rose, that all might love me; 

In a diamond, that I might endure; " 
But the first angel spoke up quickly, — 

"In a snow-flake, that I might be pure!" 



CHANGE. 

The sunshine would not seem so bright, 
If there were never storms; 

We greet the spring with deep delight, 
We hail the harvest morns. 

We smile to see the busy bee 
Sip summer's golden grains, 

Yet turn well pleased to home of ease 
When white-robed winter reigns. 

The sweet would never seem so sweet 

If it could always last, 
And " written language " fail complete, 

If "spoken" words were past. 

We love our books, yet turn to look 
On nature's wide-spread range ; 

For mind and matter too, you'll find, 
Seeks everywhere for change. 

The past is pleasing in our eyes, 

The present very good; 
Yet no man lives who would not grasp 

H is future if he could. 



GONE HOME. 

With a feeling akin to gladness we utter these words, as one after 
another of our number goes at the call of duty, or of pleasure, back to the 
dear home-circle, to mother's love and friends. But when God calls them 
up yonder, where the home eternal is, the shadow of the golden gates 
through which they entered rest darkly on our hearts. 

In this room, where his voice was so often h«ird, it is well for us now to 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 153 

make mention of one who on earth is no more. Will Jones, — he has 
been with us at many a May walk, and many a festive scene ; he has 
toiled beside us up the rugged hill of science, and made the ascent less 
wearisome to many a tired traveller. 

Would he linger then, when motherland called for her loyal sons? 
They who knew him best were least surprised when he came to the Hill, a 
soldier, to bid it a final good-by. For by one of those strange foreshadow- 
ings of the future, known only to genius-lighted minds, our friend was sat- 
isfied that he would never return. But he had heard the voice of duty, 
and duty to him was law. On Monday, the 1st of February, the 7th 
Maine Battery left Augusta for Washington ; on Friday, the 5th, it was 
stationed at Camp Berry, East Capitol Hill. Then the fever fell upon him 
and he saw the familiar faces of far-off friends in Maine ; on Kent's Hill 
he walked again " in the old way," and the " prayers of our chapel " were 
ringing in his ears. On Monday, March 28th, the news of his sickness 
first reached us and' the next Friday he died. Not died, — 

" There is no death ;, what seems so is transition. 
This life of mortal breath 
Is but an entrance to the life Elysian 
Whose portals we call death." 

Believing this, we may not mourn that only twenty-two short years of 
earth-life were given to our friend. The school, the great world he would 
have benefited, the little circle of intimate friends, — a school before 
unbroken, — may lament their own loss, — his gain. God fitted him for 
this life, then gave him life eternal. 

" earth, so full of dreary noises ! 
men, with wailing in your voices ! 
shining gold, the wailer's heap ! 
strife ! curse ! that o'er it fall, 
God makes a silence through you all, 
And giveth his beloved sleep." 
Spring of 1864. 



CONSISTENCY. 

Yes, my friends, believe in youthful enthusiasm ; like to have young 
folks lively ; tell them to move quick ; be cheerful, and at the same time 
inform your nephew he's going to ruin because he whistles Yankee Doodle, 
or claps his hand enthusiastically over the speech of Mr. So-and-So. 

Cry out against despotism and tyranny ; have a mortal horror of the 
Pope of Rome ; hate Catholics, because they are obliged to yield implicit 



154 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

obedience ; cause the eyes of little children to dilate with wonder at your 
marvellous stories of Blue-Beard, who didn't torment his friends while 
living, — bat kindly ate them up; but take care to terrify everybody 
within the reach of your influence by a series of diminutive despotisms, 
or irritate them by petty exhibitions of authority. 

Make minds your study, that you may do (hem good (of course), and 
when you have found their most sensitive spot grasp it with iron fingers. 
Make jokes ; make a thousand of them, and laugh complacently all the 
while. 

Tell your friends it's a fine thing to laugh and be merry ; but if a poor, 
innocent little joke comes unexpected into your presence, annihilate it 
with a tremendous frown. All this you may do, and more ; but remember 

" Precept whispers, while example thunders." 

ANNIVERSARY DAYS. 

And by this term we do not mean those dry intellectual feasts with 
which college students are supposed to delight their patrons, — such 
as come to us on the Hill when June comes, let who will be presi- 
dent. But we each set apart a few days from life's common routine, and 
devote them to the past. Anniversary days ! Individuals have them ; 
the nation has them ; and once in a great while God puts a distinguishing 
mark on some part of his time, and it becomes henceforth an anniversary 
day for all mankind. 

We make our anniversaries of vastly different stuff. Some are fine and 
silken and full of golden gleaming lustre, and when, as time comes round, 
we bring forth the beautiful garment, it clothes us with joy unspeakable. 
Then time weaves a gay, flashing garment and we think it will last us for- 
ever. But we hang it in memory's closet, and, lo ! all its beauty is gone. 

There is sombre black in that closet, and we wear it at times next our 

/ 
heart. 

It is wonderful to think how thickly sown are the seed of these memory 
days. May 27th is an anniversary to some, and yesterday afternoon was 
to how many? 

Birthdays are universal anniversaries ; not only our own, but our friends. 
They have been aptly called mile-stones marking our progress on life's 
journey, — a journey where all the travellers are homeward bound. 

And when the eternal gates are opened to those left behind, there 
remains only this record, " Died." 

" And ever in our hearts we keep 
The birthdays of the dead." 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 



155 






The war has made many anniversaries that all coming time will observe. 
July 4th and Washington's birthday seemed about all the nation used to 
have in common ; but now we must acid April 15th and the date of the 
close of the war. 

Grief here and gladness there formed a bond uniting us all. From the 
beginning God saw the need of these great bonds of a common humanity, 
and so made the Christian Sabbath consecrated to holy memories of his 
working and his rest and gave us Christinas week, — an anniversary set 
apart forever as a memorial of what Christ hath done for all mankind. 



LILLA LUNT. 
Died of Diphtheria in the Summer op 1862. 

Two little hands that at morning 

Were first to be clasped in my own, 
And two cunning eyes that, from dawning 

Of day till the starlight and moon 
Lit the heavens, never wearied or slumbered, 

And whose glances were like to the gleam 
Of the daisies that blossomed in spring-time, 

Near our home on the banks of the stream; • 

Fair baby hands whose close clinging 

We almost can feel now at even; 
And a voice whose last earth-singing 

Was of mother, home, love, and heaven; 
Face whose innocent sweetness 

Never was clouded by care, 
Shrouded about and shaded 

By the softest and brownest of hair; — 

Little thought we that our darling 

Would be borne from our arms so soon; 
Little thought we that spring roses 

Would lie on her breast in the tomb ! 
Ah well! we must strive to be patient, 

Kneel humbly and bow 'neath the rod; 
For we know that our Lily, transplanted, 

Now blooms in the garden of God. 



WOMAN'S DTJTY AT THE PRESENT TIME 

Tread softly, students, in these halls ! man of business, pausj, 
For a nation bows in sadness now o'er liberty's dear cause. 
The downtrod million of the earth have, trembling, staked the} all; 
With our success their freedom's won, and with us, too, they fat. 



156 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

While the tramp of gathering thousands is resounding through the lan< 
And brother meeteth brother in death-conflict hand to hand, 
Have we no duty to perform, — no laurel crown to win ? 
Shall woman stand with folded hands before this monster sin ? 

You've read in history's pages how, when Freedom's Sky grew dark, 
'Twas lighted up by woman's faith ; — think of Joan d'Arc ! 
Oh, ne'er was cause more holy, or ne'er could man or maid 
More freely lift the heart to God with hand upon the blade. 

For we fight against injustice, and, in every battle won, 

We have struck a blow for freedom, and a world is looking on; 

Yet still waters run the deepest, and 'tis not alone by war 

That the greatest good's accomplished — silent influence's better far. 

Let no selfish love restrain you, — country first, and then our friends; 
What is one without the other ? Would you clasp a coward's hand ? 
While our brothers toil in battle, we who stay at home can pray; 
' And our God, the God of battles, he will give the victory. 



Few things are more noticeable now than the prevalence of mourning. 
You cannot stand in any crowded assembly without remarking this. One 
day on the street you meet smiling faces, — they have come from the post- 
office perhaps, and that letter has made their sunshine, — then over the 
swift wires comes the news of victory, and lo ! there passes you a figure in 
black, coarse b.ack, most likety , ■ — for the pay of a common soldier will 
not buy fine ciape for the mourners. There is no display of sorrow, no 
pageantry of grief to tell the world, at large, they have lost a friend, — 
only a quiet clanging from the gay garb of yesterday to the shadowy one 
of to-day. 

Oh, these std-eyed, pale-faced figures, in black, pass by us more fre- 
quently than tley did years ago, and in their sorrow lies a deeper meaning ! 
What they ha^e lost has been sacrificed for the benefit of a nation ; and a 
nation shares Iheir grief. 

" Oh, when the fight is won, 
Dear land whom triflers now make bold to scorn, 
Thee, from whose forehead earth awaits her morn, 

How nobler does the sun 
Flame in thy sky ! how braver breathes thy air, 
That thou hadst children who for thee couldst daro 

And die as thine have done ! 



IN MEMOEIAM. 

Sunlight upon a new-made grave, 
And turf above" the breast 

Of one who stood among us once, 
As student and as guest. 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 157 

"More light! more light!" this dying wish 
Of Goethe's poet soul 
Found echo on thy lips, friend! 
Found echo in thy soul. 

God heard; he always hears the prayers 
Of those, whose lives are given 
- . To country and to him; he sent 

The eternal light of heaven. 

Yes, it is well, — let the same old bell, 

That in the days gone by 
Rang out to him the hours of time, 

Ring in, — eternity. 

Who next shall fall for country's honor? 

Who next shall sleep 'neath the starry banner? 

God pity the mothers, and pity all 

For whom the sheen of sunshine shall fall 

On a vacant chair, a desolate home, 

And the new-made grave of a friend! 

BREVITY. 

Brevity is the soul of wit. It is also the true test of wisdom. Cfsesar's 
" veni, yidi, vici," has lived, and will live, because it is short, sharp, and 
full of meaning. It was Milton — was it not ? — who being requested to put 
Christ's miracle at the marriage-feast into poetry, expressed it all in one 
immortal line ? 

" The conscious water saw its God, and blushed." 

People who stayed at home, and made long and loud professions of loyalty, 
were not apt to be the truest patriots. You remember that sublime verse 
in Genesis, which describes the creation; "And God said, let there be 
light, and there was light." Do you also recollect how rhetoric speaks of 
one who thus gives the same idea in many words : " The Sovereign Ar- 
biter of the universe, by the potent energy of a single word, commanded 
light to exist, and immediately it sprang into being ? " Mark the change. 
Such " linked sweetness, long drawn out," is anything but pleasing. 

Of what avail a long lecture, or sermon, or even prayer, except to weary 
or disgust the hearer ? 

Religion does not consist in many and high-sounding words ; but is best 
shown in those little, decisive acts of every-day life. No man ever made 
his words immortal who did not make them brief. 

Scripture commands are always short and comprehensive. The Lord's 
Prayer is short ; and no superfluous words can be found in the ten com- 
mandments. 



158 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

The shortest verse in the Bible is one of the most affecting. " Jesus 
wept ! " What could be more touching ? The King of Glory mourning 
over fallen man ! 

A FRAGMENT. 

Past, Present, and Future, — Oh, what is there here 

That is worth one regret, one lingering tear ? 

When the summons is given, — spirit, return 

To the hands of thy Giver — poor wanderer come home,— 

We mourn not, we weep not, for that which is fled; 

Though our tears fall like rain on the face of the dead, 

They are tears for the living, for those who alone 

Over life's weary pathway must still wander on. 

Yet courage faint heart ! to thee comfort is given, 

For the dear ones who've left us are happy in heaven. 

We shall miss their sweet presence, and yearn for their love, 

Yet, sometime, God helping, we'll meet them above. 



MYSTERY. 

There once was a dove, — in her nest, 
Seven birdlings chirped; and three 
Were weak as weak could be; 
Three strong, — and one the best 
And dearest of the seven, 
He plumed his wings for heaven. 
And the mother-bird wept. mystery! 
It is all as sad as sad can be. 
' Tis a mystery all. 

There once was a ship, — she sailed 
Where the tide-waves ebb and flow, 
And laughed at the storm ; when, lo ! 
Snapped every sail, rent by the gale, 
Bent every mast 'neath slavery's blast; 
Her future seemed to mock her past. 
God knows the fate of our bonnie boat, 
The Union, — will it ever float 

As before ? To us 'tis a mystery. 

When creeds are confused, and in strife 
Stand the guides to the Heavenly Feast, 
And he who reads most knows the £east 
Of the way, — who shall wonder if Life, 
Young Life, all aglow for the fight, 
Be wearied with waiting for light ? 
Who shall blame if it falters, and who if it falls T 
Let God judge. To us 'tis a mystery all, 
And we cannot know. 

There were once two friends, — two friends 
Who loved each other so, 
That when God bade one go, 



THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 159 

Tho other prayed, — Ob, sond 

Somo token if tho soul f . 

That has reached the heavenly goal 
Holds dear to his hoart tho left behind ! 
mystery ! yo fools and blind, 
Yo cannot know. 

Thoro was onco a slender vine, 
Planted on tho brow of this Hill, 
And it flourishoth thero still, 
Grown strong. Its tendrils twine 
Round right; its fruit through all these yoars 
Has fallen midst a fall of tears; 
Wo can but wonder as it grows. 
We ask its future. Well, God knows. 
To us 'tis a mystery. 

There's a stream, 'tis deep and wide; 
Who near it, oft repino; 
Who oross it, make no sign 
When they reach tho other side. 
Dark is tho hither shore. 
Though each one must pass o'er, 
And fain would know why they must go, 
And whero, and whenco its waters flow; 
'Tis a mystery all. 

There were once eight sticks, all found 
In tho Pine-Troo Stato; somo straight, 
Somo wore crooked, and strange to relate, 
Since they grew on such similar ground ; 
Some were bonding as willows when breezes blow; 
Somo unyielding as granito. Now, toll me, who knows, 
Why they grafted themselves on tho troo of knowledge, 
And came en masse to tho Wesleyan College ? 
For to us 'tis a mystery. 



The following was prepared for her graduation piece in 1866 : — 

THE STUDENT'S REWARD. 
Since the world began, rewards and punishments have been distributed 
with an impartial hand by their great Author. The mother smiles approv- 
ingly upon the first warm impulse that prompts her little one's heart to 
» deeds of kindness. The world bows in homage before its own great men ; 
and God himself on those he loves showers blessings. We all look for- 
ward to the reward which is to be ours, and choose our life-work according 
to that which promises most. 

With the various dispositions of mankind, there must ever be an infinite 
diversity of tastes ; but, — 



162 THE CROWN WON BUT NOT WORN. 

such productions as are here given of her early and later writings ; although a 
large number were lost with other things at the Hill. We regret the loss 
of one of her ablest productions, written soon after she went to the Hill, — 
title, Ancient and Modern Chivalry ; and if airy person who shall read this, 
has, or knows of any one who has, a copy of that article, we should be 
greatly obliged for a copy of the same. 

In closing, permit me to say to all who shall have patience to read this 
narrative through, that with much research and toil, I have gathered up 
the evidence and circumstances from which I have based my conclusions, 
and, in pamphlet form, lay them before the public ; asking the public 
journalists of the State, if the fact comes to their knowledge that I have 
made a statement of this sad case, to notice the same in their journals. 
Justice will give such notice a place in those papers which published the 
reports of committees on the other side from Kent's Hill. In view of all 
that has transpired on the Hill, and the course Torsey has pursued towards 
Louise while under his care and since she died, his disposition shown to, 
and the treatment of her friends, I must say, I loath and detest this mis- 
erable compound of intrigue and deception, and desire him to be kept out 
of my sight and mind if possible. I will not attempt to call him deserved 
names, as I can find no terms in the English language that will do him 
justice. 

I cannot pass unnoticed that whole-souled class-mate of Louise, Adelaide 
Webb, who, untrammelled by religious creeds, speaks out fully her true 
sentiments without fear, and says, " I have long wished for some avenue 
through which to express my esteem and love for Louise," etc. (See her 
letter in full on page 61.) 



"THE CROWN WON, BUT NOT WORN," 

Was the title of Louise's exhibition piece, prepared and read by her on 
the stage, in June, 1865, m regard to the life and death of the lamented 
Lincoln. Its length precludes its publication here. 

Being forcibly impressed with that title, and her effort, and their sudden 
exit from earthly scenes, caused me to adopt that title. 

The following lines of a distinguished poet are applicable to the close of 
this sad narrative, — 

" Man's inhumanity to man 
Makes countless millions mourn." 



«& 



V-OFC 



